Gyre and Gimble in the Wabe
by BeliBali
Summary: Sequel to Clinic Duty. Three years has passed, House and Cameron are married with a child, but trouble brews as Cameron is transferred fulltime to Immunology and her new boss wants to enhance relations amoung his employees, especially one in particular...
1. Chapter 1

**Foreword.**

Hordes at the door, I declare implore, me, a sequel to right.

With fear of life, I deter to strife as I sit, and begin to write.

Fear not, I now tell you, this is not my new venue

Only a means to declare the deeds of my stories' continue.

Though the rhyme is mine, please be kind, as you read this and shutter

I promise in prose, I will compose, the tale I shall utter.

The characters are not mine, in any frame, shape,or kind, only used for pleasure.

In the new tale, don't turn pale, as I attempt to be cleaver

If you only knew, as you read and review, the inspiration you render

Thanks to all, I do applaud each and every sender.

CBB

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 1: The Snark**

"_Just the place for a Snark!" the Bellman cried,_

_As he landed his crew with care;_

_Supporting each man on the top of the tide_

_By a finger entwined in his hair._

_Just the place for a Snark! I have said it twice:_

_That alone should encourage the crew._

_Just the place for a Snark! I have said it thrice:_

_What I tell you three times is true."_

_ The Hunting of the Snark_ by Lewis Carroll

The clock struck. Gregory House, a part of his mind lost in the music he was playing, glanced to the mantel. _Midnight_. He tensed slightly. _She said she would be home before midnight. _Turning his attention back to the piano, he let his fingers flow through a Goldberg Variation. So consumed was he in the music, House hardly noticed as the presence of another person quietly entered the darkened room. Looking up from the keyboard, he could not stop the smile which crept across his face.

'I thought I put you to bed,' he said quietly as he continued to play.

Large blue eyes stared at him questioningly as the cherub face of his fourteen month old daughter appeared in the pool light cast from the lamp. Clutched to her tiny body was a tatter rabbit with long, flopping ears. Her father's tee-shirt she was wearing as a night gown flowed behind her as regal regalia. House stopped playing and looked intently at his tiny daughter, who he noticed, had her thumb in her mouth. The rims of her eyes were red and puffy.

'Did you have a bad dream?'

The child nodded her head, causing her thin, light brown ringlets to cascade across her shoulders. 'Mommy?' came a trembling childish voice.

House smiled broadly at his daughter, his eyes softening as he held out a hand to her.

Reacting to his invitation, the little girl toddled towards the bench of the piano. Once there she carefully held out her arms so her father could scoop her up. Once she had nestled into his lap, she placed her small head against his chest, and clutched the rabbit closely to her.

House could smell the soft baby scent of his daughter as he held her in his arms. 'Are you going to tell daddy how you got out of your crib?' House asked, glancing down at the tiny girl. She looked up, her eyes meeting his, and blinked. Realizing she either wasn't going to answer, or didn't understand his question he tried a different tactic.

'You know little girls are supposed to be asleep now, don't you?'

He felt the little head nod against his chest. 'Mommy?' came a questioning reply.

'Mommy's not home, it's still just you and Daddy.'

The little face looked into his, 'Mommy?' House rolled his eyes. 'No, Daddy. Mommy is still at the hospital.'

'Os pid el,'

'Yes, at the hospital.' House felt the child move in his lap, her little hand reaching for his shirt pocket. Reaching into the pocket, he pulled out a pacifier and held it in front of his daughter. 'You can have this, but we're not going to tell mommy about it, ok?'

Her eyes lit at the sight of her paci. Before House knew it, a little hand had snatched it from his grasp and plopped it in the child's mouth. House grinned, 'Can't say you have an oral fixation, can we?'

House winced, his leg was beginning to hurt, but the way his daughter was laying in his lap, he could not retrieve his bottle of Vicodin. Adjusting his grip, he moved to lift his daughter and stand.

'NO,' the cry was loud making him jump. Tears began welling into the little girl's eyes as two little fist grabbed the front of his shirt.

"Okay, okay, daddy will just be in pain. Will that make you happy, Daddy just sitting here and holding you, while he's in pain?'

The grip on his shirt relaxed and the little head nodded against his chest. 'Can you move a little and sit on Daddy's other leg?' He felt her entire body tense, preparing to scream if he so much as thought of moving her. House sighed, and kissed the top of his daughter's head. 'Maybe mommy will be here soon.'

Leaning forwards a little, House discovered even with his daughter in his lap, he could still touch the keyboard on the piano. 'Do you want daddy to play for you?' The little head nodded.

As House began to play, he realized three things. The first was his little daughter was drifting off to sleep. The second was, if he attempted to stop playing, her head instantly shot up from its place against his chest, and asked the inevitable 'Mommy?' Knowing he did not want to deal with a screaming baby for the rest of the night, House continued to play one lullaby after another, debating the third thing which had come to his realization. He was in great pain. _Some how_, he thought, _if I concentrate on the baby and the music, I can hold off till Cameron comes home. Then, I'll swallow the entire bottle of Vicodin and roll around on the floor till I pass out._ Glancing at the clock on the mantel, House quietly cursed. _Quarter to one, where is mommy?_

By the time one-thirty rolled around, House was in agony. His arms ached from trying to play the piano and hold his child simultaneously, his leg had settled in to a teeth grinding throb, and his back was aching from lack of support. Finally deciding the risk of hearing his baby scream for the rest of night, was a better option than the pain in his leg, House stopped playing.

'So far so good,' mumbled House, wrapping his arms around the bundle in his lap. 'Damn, I can't move.' His leg had locked. The only way he was going to stand, House discover, was if his daughter was off his lap; even then he knew it was going to take maneuvering awkwardly and several minutes of standing and stretching to recover the limited function he had of his leg. 'damn, damn, damn.'

'Greg! I don't care if she is a sleep, I don't want you cussing around the baby,' snapped Cameron from behind him. Moving to his side, Cameron bent forward and lifted her daughter in to her arms, the cherub head snuggling instinctively into its mother's shoulder.

'She's been sitting on my Vicodin for over an hour and a half,' hissed House angrily as he fished in his pocket for the bottle of pills. 'I'm pain, and I don't care who knows it.' Removing the lid from the bottle, he dry swallowed three of the pills.

'Three?' hissed Cameron as quiet as she could, so as not to wake the baby.

House gave her a loathsome look. 'Yes, Dr. Cameron, three.' Closing the cover on the keyboard, House placed his hands flat on the top of the piano and forcefully pushed himself up into a standing position. He flinched and closed his eyes at the pain radiating through his body.

'Are you alright?' asked his wife in half annoyance and half concern.

'No, damn it, I'm not,' snapped House a little too loudly causing his daughter to stir. Sweat covered his brow as House grasped his cane and applied pressure to his leg.

Cameron turned to leave the room, 'Let me put the baby down before you wake her. I can't help you if I'm holding her.'

House watched her go, making faces at her retreating form. Flexing his leg a little, he willed the Vicodin to take effect. Tentatively, he took a step. He almost screamed as he gulped down the sharp pain. House knew he had to get his leg working. Glancing at the piano bench, he saw his daughter's rabbit lying in the floor and cursed. Slowly and painfully he picked up the stuffed toy. Steeling himself, House took a deep breath and followed his wife down the corridor.

By the time House had made it to the nursery, Cameron had placed the baby in its crib and covered it in blankets. Turning around, she was surprised to see him standing in the doorframe. He was pale from the excursion of the short trip from the living room. Raising his hand, he flapped the rabbit at Cameron, before tossing it to her. 'We both know what happens if she wakes up and doesn't have Wopples.'

Catching the rabbit, Cameron tucked it under her daughter's arm. Satisfying herself, her daughter was sleeping peacefully; she moved to leave the room only to find her husband blocking her way.

'Where have you been?' hissed House, irritation and worry evident in his voice.

'Not here,' replied Cameron, reaching out to turn House towards their bedroom, 'you're going to wake the baby.'

'I want to know where you've been.'

'At the hospital.' Cameron laid her hand on his back, forcefully encouraging him to cross the hallway.

'I can make it,' griped House. He could feel the Vicodin.

Once inside their bedroom, Cameron flipped on a light before removing her coat, and sitting heavily on the side of the bed. She looked up and watched her husband flexing his leg, grimacing in pain, as she removed her shoes. 'I'm sorry. I got here as fast as I could. '

'Tell that ass-hole you're working for you have a baby at home.' House had not meant for his statement to sound as vicious as it did, but he could tell from the look on Cameron's face she was taking it as a personal attack on her.

'I wouldn't be working for him if it wasn't for you.' There was fire in her eyes as Cameron headed into the bathroom, removing her blouse and bra.

'Yeah, sure Allison, blame me again.' He pointed at her with his cane. "You were there too.'

'You talked me into it.'

'You have had just as many fantasies about that conference table as I have.' He watched as Cameron scowled at him as she removed her pants, and waded them into a ball. 'How the hell was I supposed to know Cuddy was going to walk in, in the middle of us having sex?'

Cameron reached behind the bathroom door and jerked the old tee-shirt of House's she used as a gown from its hook. 'You could have locked the door Greg.'

'I thought I had.'

'Well you didn't,' there was venom in Cameron's voice as she started throwing decorative pillows from the bed to the floor. 'So now _you_ are going to have to deal with me being transferred into another department and working the hours they assign me; even if it's half the night.'

'You can't,' snapped House, trying to dodge the pillows which were oddly flying in his direction. 'We have a baby who needs her mother. Did you tell them you were breastfeeding?'

'Yes I did. Don't you think I would rather be here?' Cameron stood, her face set, arms crossed across her chest.

House met his wife's gaze and held it for a moment before looking away. He sighed deeply before limping towards her. 'I know. You don't have to tell me.' He reached out and began stroking Cameron's arm. 'I know this is miserable.'

Pulling away from him, Cameron stooped and pulled back the covers of the bed, climbing inside their beckoning embrace. House stood next to the bed staring down at her.

'Are you going to be this way every night you work late or is tonight a special occasion? Did something happen at the hospital, a patient tank, or what?'

'No Greg, I'm just really tired and want to go to sleep.'

'Liar, you're mad at me about something. I know that look.' He limped to the bathroom and peered on to the back of its door.

'What are you doing?' called Cameron watching him from the bed.

'Counting the days from the last time you hated my guts,' quipped House. 'and according to this calendar you shouldn't start PMSing for another week.'

'Wrong again!'

Pulling his head from behind the door, House looked at Cameron. 'What you've got PMS now? Give me a sec to hide all the sharp objects.'

Cameron snorted angrily, 'Don't bother,'

'What do you mean?'

Sitting up in the bed and throwing back the covers in agitation, Cameron stared at House incredulously. 'I mean I won't be hating you in a week's time, because I'm hating you now.'

House moved away from the bathroom towards the bed, the expression on his face unreadable.

'That little stunt of yours on the conference table. You know, 'Allison _please_, it's my birthday. Allison, no one will know, _I promise_ I'll lock the door. Allison, _please_, you know you want to as much as I do. Allison, I know you have always fantasized about this as much as I have.' Cameron glanced at her husband. House was standing perfectly still, the light from the bathroom sending a halo effect around his body.She could see hurt in his eyes. 'I should have never let you talk me into it.'

'Oh please, Cameron,' there was annoyance in his voice; 'you have had fantasies about every surface in that office and you know it.'

'Greg,... I'm pregnant again.'

House blinked. 'Are you sure?'

'Yes.'

'How long?'

'Six weeks. I saw my obstetrician this morning and from what she tells me, Cuddygot to witnessthe creation of our next child.' Tears welled into Cameron's eyes as she turned on her side away from House. 'If you hadn't been so damn persistent this would have never happened.'

House moved and sat gingerly on the side of the bed, wondering if he should touch her or not. A full two minutes went by before he dared to speak.

'What are you saying exactly? Aren't you happy we're going to have another baby?'

Rolling onto her back, Cameron looked at House, their eyes locking. 'No.'

House blinked in surprise, uncertain what to think or say. 'You said you wanted more.'

Cameron could feel frustration welling up in her. 'I want more children, but not right now. The baby isn't even out of diapers and I'm already knocked up with the next one. I haven't gotten my figure back; I'm going to have more stretch marks, and lets just not to mention all of that horrible morning sickness.'

'Are you trying to tell me you don't want it?' House had asked the question so quietly Cameron was not certain he had said it.

The silence in the room was deafening, as Cameron considered what her husband had asked her. 'I don't know what I think Greg. I mean, I want another baby, but'

'Then what's the problem?' shrugged House in confusion as he interrupted her train of thought.

Rubbing her hand across her face, Cameron tried to search for the right words. She could see House emotionally withdrawing from her, and she was experienced enough as a wife to know she had emotionally injured her husband's pride. Sitting up in bed, Cameron reached for his hand.

'Don't think I don't want your baby because I do. I just…,' she hesitated, 'I just wanted to wait for a while until we tried for another one. This isn't the right time.'

House didn't answer. He shifted his body slightly away from her and rested his chin on the top of his cane.

_Oh shit_, thought Cameron, _Now I've done it._ 'Greg?'

He ignored her.

'Greg, don't think I'm going to do something stupid and abort it or anything. Deep down, I really want this baby. I'm just surprised to be pregnant again.' _Why are you acting this way Allison? Why?_ 'Greg, look at me.' Tears were forming in her eyes again. 'Greg?'

House pulled his hand from hers and placed it under his chin atop the cane. His eyes were glazed as he stared at the light falling across the floor from the open door of the bathroom.

Cameron climbed to her knees behind him, wrapping her arms firmly around his shoulders and waist. 'Greg. Don't. I'm just really exhausted. I don't know what I'm saying.'

When he didn't respond, Cameron let her hands travel across his chest, gripping his shirt in to her fist, much as their daughter had done hours before. 'Greg, please. I'm an idiot. I've had a bad day, I have some asshole coming in tomorrow for the interim director position and everything is just mad. I've had a horrible day and I'm taking it all out on you.'

Burying her head into his neck, Cameron began to kiss him gently, 'Give me time, I'm just surprised about the new baby.' Tracing the line created by the collar of his shirt, Cameron tenderly kissed him from one ear to this next. Not receiving a reaction, she began massaging his chest with her hands pushing up his shirt to feel his skin. Pressing her breast hard into his back, she bit lightly at his neck and throat. Cameron could feel herself becoming aroused.

Squirming around House's body, she reached for his cane and removed it from his grasp, letting it drop on the floor. Pulling House back till he was lying on his back on the bed, Cameron maneuvered herself so her legs and body were straddling his. Unbuttoning House's shirt and pushing it off his shoulders, Cameron dropped her head and let her tongue begin to explore House's chest, teasing his nipples. Letting her mouth wander, she worked her way across his stomach. While trying to pull loose the belt of his pants with one hand, Cameron worked her way back up his body using her teeth and tongue to lightly and playfully leave little kisses in her wake. Raising her head to his mouth, Cameron kissed House deeply, letting her tongue explore his mouth as she began to move herself against him.

Two strong hands slide up the sides of Cameron's body and stopped holding her firmly in place. Looking up, Cameron's eyes met House's. Without saying a word, House gently lifted his wife and turned to lay her on the bed. The look of hurt on his face and in his eyes was unmistakable. Sitting up, House pulled his shirt across his shoulder and bent towards the floor to pick to up his cane. For a second he sat there, again staring into space, then, turning his head, he looked a Cameron. 'You need some rest.'

Standing, House walked to the bathroom and flipped off the light before heading towards the bedroom door.

'Greg? Where are you going?'

House stopped, his eyes were glazed as he turned towards his wife, 'I want to check on the baby.'

'Are you coming back to bed?' asked Cameron, in confusion.

For several moments House didn't answer, he just stood looking at the floor. Finally, as if making a huge decision, he lifted his head and looked across the open doorway to his daughter's room. 'No.'

The word was almost inaudible.

**

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**

**Author's Notes**

OK. What did you think? A bit longer than my last story, but I plan on really developing this one and not writing it over a period of six days as I did last time. That's right, _Clinic Duty_, six days. Obviously this time, I will try better at finding typos and such.

You also need to know, I am going to try to intergrade Lewis Carroll's _Hunting of the Snark_ (which, like House, I have absolutely no rights to) into the story. (If you haven't read _The Hunting of the Snark_, you really should.) I hope it works for what I am planning.

So, here is all you are getting right now. House and Cameron have been married for three years, have an fourteen month old daughter (I am taking suggestions for her name), they were caught on the conference table in the throws of passion, Cameron had been transferred into the immunology department (and will be getting an interesting new boss), and she and House are about to have some marital difficulties due to the unexpected pregnancy. Have I got you hooked yet? Let me know! I really want to hear what you have to say.

CBB

PS. don't forget names for the baby!

PPS. This may end up as a M by the time it is over.


	2. Chapter 2

It is not mine, in any shape, form, or kind. I only compose the words I utter

The words I chose to enfold are from a poem of another.

* * *

'_There was one who was famed for the number of things_

_He forgot when he entered the ship:_

_His umbrella, his watch, all his jewels and rings,_

_And the clothes he had bought for the trip._

_He had forty-two boxes, all carefully packed,_

_With his name painted clearly on each:_

_But, since he omitted to mention the fact,_

_They were all left behind on the beach._

_The loss of his clothes hardly mattered, because_

_He had seven coats on when he came,_

_With three pairs of boots—but the worst of it was_

_He had wholly forgotten his name.'_

_The Hunting of the Snark, _By Lewis Carroll

Lisa Cuddy, Hospital Administrator, looked at the new Acting Interim Director of Immunology and inwardly sighed in lust and envy. During the course of the last three hours, she had battled her way through rush hour traffic to greet the new addition to her staff at the airport, and had attempted to acuminate Dr. Albert Peter Culum Wendum to his new surroundings at Princeton Plains Teaching Hospital. Cuddy, who was not only been impressed by the new director's credentials, had been also pleasantly surprised to discover he was an incredibly good looking man. She had also been well aware of the stares she and Wendum had received as they had strolled through the corridors visiting the various facilities of the hospital.

'_Where the hell have they been keeping you all my life?' _thought Cuddy as she looked again at his chiseled features and prayed she was not panting aloud. They were just finishing the usual first day on the job forms, when Cuddy asked, 'What made you decide to come to America, Dr. Wendum?'

'Change of scenery,' he answered in a rich, well-defined voice which was enhanced by a public school English accent. 'But, once my sabbatical is concluded, I shall return to my own hospital, hopefully a smarter and wiser man.' Wendum finished reading the document in his hand and bent to sign his name for the fifty-second time that morning. As he bowed he head towards the paper, blonde hair fell forward partially obscuring his face.

Cuddy smiled as Wendum looked up at her with grey eyes and handed her the papers.

'There you are Dr. Cuddy, all in order I believe.'

'Thank you Dr. Wendum.' Cuddy could not stop herself from smiling every time she looked at him.

Wendum return the smile brightly, 'You may call me Albert if you like, or Culum. I'm afraid I answer to both, so either one will do. Besides, I am used to informal address among my fellow colleagues.'

Cuddy laughed as she rose from her chair. 'I'm afraid everyone here goes by last names. In fact, there are doctors on the staff who I don't think actually have a first name.'

Wendum laughed lightly as he stood and moved to open the office door for Cuddy.

'Thank you,' smiled Cuddy again raking her eyes over his handsome features. Inwardly, Cuddy cursed herself as she led Wendum towards the elevators. She felt as giddy as a schoolgirl with a first crush.

'First, we'll go to the Immunology department and get you settled into your new office, and then there is an introduction meeting planned for noon.' They stopped outside of the lift where Wendum pushed the call button before Cuddy had the opportunity to even extend her hand. 'There of course you will meet the other department heads and meet with everyone you will be working with directly.'

'Sounds lovely,' answered Wendum as the elevator doors slid open. Standing back, he allowed Cuddy to enter before him.

'You are going to be a hit here with manners like yours,' declared Cuddy trying not to grin at his gallantry.

'Breed into me really, nothing I can do about it.' There was a wink of mischief in Wendum's grey eyes as he glanced at Cuddy.

Just as he was about to follow Cuddy into the lift, Wendum became aware of a young woman with a young child in her arms strolling quickly towards the elevator. Standing aside and placing his hand over the door to ensure it remained opened, he allowed them to enter. Once inside, he turned to Cuddy.

'Floor?' Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the young woman with the child.

'Third.'

Wendum turned to the mother and child. 'Floor?'

Just as the young woman took a breath to answer, Cuddy cut in. 'Dr. Cameron is already supposed to be on the third floor actually.'

Cameron turned red at Cuddy's tone and glanced sideways at Wendum. 'Sorry, the baby was cranky this morning, and just as we were about to leave she spit up, so we both had to change.'

Cuddy gave Cameron a disparaging look as the lift doors opened and she and Wendum stepped out. 'Take her to the nursery Cameron and get right back down here.'

Cameron nodded, as she stepped back into the lift and punched the floor for the nursery. As the doors slid closed, she gave the new doctor a polite nod.

'Absolutely lovely,' said Wendum once Cameron was gone.

'Yes,' agreed Cuddy, 'she really is beautiful.'

'And you say she works on this floor?'

The question threw Cuddy; the consternation evident on her face. 'Who, Cameron or the baby?'

Wendum smiled in embarrassment as he realized he and Cuddy were referring to two different people. 'I was referring to the mother actually.'

'Oh, you meant Dr. Cameron.' Cuddy began walking towards to doors labeled Department of Immunology, followed by Wendum. 'She is a member of your staff actually.' Cuddy gave him a side long glance as she wondered if she should warn him Cameron was very much off limits.

'Really?' asked Wendum raising an eyebrow, 'she's an immunologist?'

'One of the best actually,' came Cuddy's reply as she guided him to the door and stopped. 'It became a sort of obsession with her after her husband died.' Turning away from Wendum Cuddy indicated the glass walled rooms beyond the doors. 'Here are your offices. The one on the left is yours'; right is Dr. Cameron's, then there is Winslow and Bowman. The rest you can pretty much see for yourself, so if you think you'll be okay on your own, I'll leave you here and let you get settled.'

Nodding politely, Cuddy turned to leave as Dr. Wendum started to enter his new department.

'One more thing, if I may,' called Wendum after her, 'Dr. Cameron, what is her first name?'

'Allison.' replied Cuddy as warning bells began to sound somewhere deep within her mind.

* * *

'_He came as a Baker: but owned, when too late--_

_And it drove the poor Bellman half mad--_

_He could only bake Bride cake- -for which, I may state,_

_No materials were to be had.'_

_The Hunting of the Snark _byLewis Carroll

Dr. James Wilson pushed opened the door of his friend's office and laughed to himself. Stretched out in a lounger, with a gameboy falling from his hand was Dr. Gregory House, fast asleep and snoring lightly. He looked so peaceful in fact; Wilson was tempted not even to bother him.

'House wake up,' called Wilson as he stood over the chair, looking down at the slumbering figure.

'House' called Wilson louder as he realized there were iPod headphones hanging out of House's ears.

'Go away' came a sleepy reply.

'Get up now, we have a meeting'

'Why?' asked House, trying his best to ignore Wilson.

Reaching down, Wilson pulled a headphone from House's ear to insure House heard his next words. 'Word has it every female in the building is already drooling over the new immunologist.'

Opening his eyes, House looked up at Wilson and made a mocking face as he pulled the other earphone from his ear, 'Is little Jimmy afraid he has competition for the attention of the nurses, or is he interested in the nice immunologist for other reasons?'

Dismissing the barb, Wilson crossed the room and sat as House stood and stretched.

'I just want to see what all the talk is about. They said Cuddy was drooling on him.'

'Good, she needs to get laid,' yawned House loudly as he reached into his pocket to retrieve a Vicodin.

Wilson sat quietly for a second, watching as House moved behind his desk, trying to rub sleep from his eyes. 'You look awful.'

'Thank you.'

'Did Emma keep you up all night?'

Picking up his coffee mug, House sniffed it in consideration. Deciding it wasn't drinkable; he grabbed his cane and headed towards the conference room coffeemaker.

'Cameron had to work late, so the little bugger escaped from her crib and slept in my lap.'

'What's wrong with that?' asked Wilson moving to stand in the doorway of the conference room.

'She insisted on laying across my leg and I couldn't get to my Vicodin.' House emptied his coffee cup into the sink and began to rinse it of the dredges of its previous contents.

'Why didn't you move her or tuck her back in her bed?'

'I didn't want to hear her scream,' answered House nonchalantly as he poured himself a new cup of coffee. 'Once that kid gets wound up, she doesn't stop. I keep telling Cameron the coast guard is going to call us to borrow the baby.'

House turned to find his friends grinning broadly and trying not to laugh. 'The coast guard, what would the coast guard want with Emma?'

House took a sip of his freshly poured coffee, 'to warn the ships in the fog.'

Wilson laughed loudly.

Ignoring Wilson, House leaned heavily on his cane and made his way back to his desk. Once there he seated himself, throwing his leg over the corner of his desk.

'Don't settle in,' said Wilson quickly, 'we have to attend Cuddy's meet and greet at noon.'

'You mean greet and eat' replied House sardonically.

'That makes us sounds like cannibals,' Wilson grimaced as he turned to prepare to leave. 'Get up Greg; you know you have to attend this thing.'

House let his leg drop to the floor, and gave Wilson his best pouting expression. 'But, I don't feel like human today.'

Opening the office door, Wilson stood waiting for House. 'Don't you want to come and check out the new, handsome, _young _English doctor who is going to be working with your _young _and beautiful wife?'

'You know Jimmy,' House grabbed his cane and headed for the door, 'I suddenly feel a bit carnivorous.'

'_The last of the crew need especial remark_

_Though he looked an incredible dunce:_

_He had just one idea—but, that one being "Snark"_

_The good Bellman engaged him at once.'_

_Hunting of the Snark, by _Lewis Carroll

* * *

Author's note:

Thanks for the names. She is Emma because that was one of the few names my merry ban couldn't make a tastless joke about combined with the name House (thank you,to the one who suggested Emma). As for the breastfeeding, I honestly don't remember when they stop. It seems they still take bottles after one, so Cameron being Cameron would probably be in the weening process. And yes, being doctors that probably do know all about birth control, but who among us have... well...gotten caught off guard.

I fried the modem in my computer today, so it may be a bit before I can borrow a laptop or upload again. sorry, I will try to get it fixed ASAP. Ta for now. CBB


	3. Chapter 3

As the story progresses, I am left with guesses

I'm in a spasm, from the lack of enthusiasm

From lack of revue, I haven't a clue

Should I continue or stop, is this story a flop?

I need one moment of time, to tell of another crime

Thanks to Red Dragon, who should be braggin'

For the tale they wrote, to it I allude, but do not quote

Fear not, I tell you now, Dragon was a pal

Permission was sought, and granted with careful thought.

Now, let's have the disclaimer, before this rhyme becomes lamer.

These characters are not mine in any shape, form, or kind

The story I unfold, should never be told

But yet, let us embark with further tales of a snark.

* * *

'_He came as a Butcher: but gravely declared,_

_When the ship had been sailing a week,_

_He could only kill Beavers. The Bellman looked scared,_

_And was almost too frightened to speak:_

_But at length he explained, in a tremulous tone,_

_There was only one Beaver on board;_

_And that was a tame one he had of his own,_

_Whose death would be deeply deplored._

_The Beaver, who happened to hear the remark,_

_Protested, with tears in its eyes,_

_That not even the rapture of hunting the Snark_

_Could atone for that dismal surprise!'_

_The Hunting of the Snark_ by Lewis Carroll

Allison Cameron had more difficulty returning quickly to her offices than she had anticipated. Her original plan, after the look of death she had received from Cuddy, was to quickly run to the nursery, hand her daughter off to one of the attendants, and immediately sprint back to the third floor. Her daughter had different plans. The moment Cameron was about to hand Emma to the nursery attendant, Emma had looked at her, smiled, and then proceeded to vomit down the front of Cameron's blouse.

'Augh, Emma,' exclaimed Cameron in exasperation, 'not again!'

'It's alright Dr. Cameron, I'll take her.' Jessica, a nursery assistant lifted Emma from her mother's grasp and smiled at her. 'Is your tummy upset today?'

Emma nodded her head before hiding her face with her rabbit Wopples.

Cameron, holding out the front of her blouse, examined the damage. 'No, no, no, no. Not today.'

'It's alright, Dr. Cameron. You can use our bathroom.'

Cameron glanced at Jessica before returning her concentration to her clothing. 'I've got to shower, its gone straight through. Why today, Emma? Why?'

'Excuse me?' asked Jessica a little confused.

'What?' Cameron looked up at the girl holding her daughter, 'Oh, I'm sorry Jessica, I'm talking to myself. We have the new interim coming today and I was supposed to have been there an hour ago. Now I am going to have to run downstairs to shower and change again.'

'Is there anything I can do?' Jessica smiled as Emma started hitting her in the head with Wopples.

'Can you clean up Emma and Wopples for me?' asked Cameron pleadingly. 'I'd really appreciate it,' then as an afterthought she added, 'can you also call my department and tell them I'll be there as soon as I can?'

Jessica smiled reassuringly at Cameron. 'Sure Dr. Cameron, no problem.'

'Thanks, I owe you one.'

'No problem. Can you wave bye-bye to mommy Emma? ' Jessica crossed the room with Emma and picked up the phone. 'Let's make this call and then get you cleaned up, shall we?'

* * *

'_It strongly advised that the Butcher should be_

_Conveyed in a separate ship:_

_But the Bellman declared that would never agree_

_With the plans he had made for the trip:'_

For the last several days, Winslow, the current departmental head, had given Cameron all responsibilities involving the in depending arrival of Wendum. It had been decided it would to be Cameron's responsibility to orient the new interim director to the case load and procedures of the department, in addition to playing nursemaid to him on his first day.

Winslow, who was within days of retiring, had already dismissed any responsibilities he had previously held with in the department. He had made it emphatically plain, for the remainder of his time, he would do absolutely nothing, or a least nothing with the exception one thing. He was going to annoy Gregory House. It was House who had contradicted him, embarrassed him, humiliated him, and who made him a laughing joke of the hospital. Winslow had determined long ago, he would get revenge before his last day. One way or another, he would humiliate House.

When Cuddy had come to his office and announced she had found his replacement in the form of an interim director; Winslow had thought little of it. In his opinion, the hospital could burn to the ground with Cuddy and everyone else in it. Then when Cuddy had informed him until it was his time to depart, he would give the general reins of the department to Allison Cameron, the old man had practically jumped for joy. Winslow would do the scheduling and a small amount of general administrative work, with the help of Barlow, but it would be Cameron who would take over supervision of the patients and staff. Or at least, it would be Cameron until the interim director presented himself. At that time, Cameron would assist in the transition and act as a second to the department head.

Winslow had found the entire event a blessing from heaven. First, everyone in the hospital knew it was to Cameron, Cuddy had originally intended to offer the position of Departmental Head of Immunology. What no one could figure out or determine was what happened to make Cuddy change her mind and hire an interim director. Winslow was certain it had to do with House. Winslow was also determined he was going to enjoy his last days by torturing Cameron. By annoying her, he would be annoying House. He did not get to enjoy it directly, but annoying House indirectly was just as well. The call from the nursery announcing Cameron's further tardiness was just another excuse Winslow had to indirectly cause problems for Gregory House.

* * *

'_The Beaver's best course was, no doubt, to procure_

_A second-hand dagger-proof coat—_

_So the Baker advised it—and next to insure_

_Its life in some Office of note:'_

'Are you finding everything in order?' Ronald Winslow asked. He was standing, watching from in the open doorway to Wendum's new office as the new interim unpacked three boxes of items which had been delivered earlier in the week.

'I believe so.' Wendum looked at the old man, trying to size his character. 'Just sorting this and that, giving the place a bit of a personal touch, he held up a cricket bat. 'I assume you don't play, do you?'

Winslow laughed, 'Not at my age son, I'd break.'

Nodding, Wendum stood, smacking the bat in his open palm as he determined its best resting place. 'I've found most Americans really don't understand the concept of cricket.'

'Yes' nodded Winslow in agreement, 'completely foreign to me.' He laughed at his own joke until he saw Wendum was not responding. 'Anyway, if you need anything, or have any questions, don't be hesitant to ask.'

'That's very kind'

'I know you were told Dr. Cameron would be here to show you around and such, but for now, I guess I can answer any questions you have. It can be difficult tying her to one spot for a moment. I guess you haven't met Dr. Cameron as of yet?'

'Actually I have.' Wendum smiled as he located the perfect place for the bat. Crossing the room, he leaned it carefully near the door. 'Well, I have of sorts…nothing proper.'

Winslow raised an overgrown, white eyebrow, 'Really? I wasn't aware she had been in?'

'She rode the lift up with Dr. Cuddy and myself. I believe she mentioned the child had been ill this morning,' answered Wendum nonchalantly as he returned to the open box and pulled out a cricket ball. 'Quite lovely isn't she.' He began to twirl the cricket ball between his hands as he leaned against the desk and looked inquiringly at Winslow.

The action grated Winslow's nerves as he thought of the times he had seen House playing with his oversized tennis ball. 'Yes, lovely as you say, but,' Winslow took a deep breath, acting as if he were debating saying anything further.

'Please do continue' encouraged Wendum, his interest in Cameron obvious.

'Well,' sighed Winslow moving to seat himself across from Wendum. 'The entire thing is very tragic. Sad really, in many ways she reminds me of my own granddaughter.'

'Really? Yes…I could see how it would be,' stated Wendum settling in for the discussion. 'Being a widow at such a young age and having to raise a child alone would be rather tragic, wouldn't it?'

Winslow took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying not to laugh at Wendum's gullibility. 'Widow, yes, tragic.' Obviously no one had told the young man there was another husband besides the dead one. Testing a theory, Winslow continued 'and of course, that entire unfortunate incident with Dr. House.'

'Dr. Gregory House…the diagnostician?'

Winslow covered his mouth with his hand, trying to hide his smile. 'The very one. Up until four weeks ago, Dr. Cameron was assigned to his department.' He shook his head sadly, 'it was the least I could do to allow her to transfer here.'

'Was there an occurrence? He didn't ill treat her did he?' Wendum shook his head in disgust, 'I have heard numeral stories about the man, but have never had the displeasure of his acquaintance in person I am pleased to say.'

'An occurrence, that's an excellent way to put it, but I wouldn't want to mention things out of turn.' Winslow looked at Wendum with a grave expression. 'Dr. Cuddy is very strict on the rumor mill and the less people who know the better. Of course there are endless speculations, but only a few of us actually know.'

Wendum was on the verge of screaming. Why didn't the old man just come out with it and tell him about Allison Cameron, after all he had dropped every hint he knew without directly coming out and asking about her. 'Yes?' asked Wendum his impatience beginning to show; then checking himself, Wendum decided on a different tactic. 'As we are making this transition into my leadership, perhaps you should tell me about it?'

Winslow considered the thought for a moment. 'There isn't that much to tell. Dr. Cameron worked for Dr. House for years and I understand there was a flirtation between them. Stacy Warren, a previous attachment of House's was here at the hospital for a while, and during that time the flirtation ended. As the lady was married, she eventually went back to her husband leaving House to again seek Cameron.' Winslow checked to see if Wendum was following him. 'There was a gala in Settle where they were sent, and I believe he tried to seduce Dr. Cameron while there. What happened or if he succeeded I'm not certain, but then later there was an incident in the clinic where Dr. Cameron was attacked by an unstable patient.'

Throwing up his hand, Wendum stopped Winslow's tale. 'Is there an overall point, Dr, Winslow?'

'Yes,' dismissed Winslow irritably, 'Dr. House has repeatedly made sexual advances towards the poor girl, and about five weeks ago, I understand he became extreme in his actions.' Winslow blushed brightly. 'As you may have noticed Dr. Wendum, the walls are made of glass.'

Wendum nodded and looked demurely to the floor, his heart beating wildly '…and Dr. Cameron?'

'Transferred here the next day,' Winslow glanced at his watch, trying to hide his grin. 'Oh no, we're about to be late.' Winslow stood and indicated the door, 'Dr. Cuddy will give me extra clinic duty if I make you late. Shall we go?'

Leading the way, Winslow guided Wendum to the reception.

'_Yet still, ever after that sorrowful day,_

_Whenever the Butcher was by,_

_The beaver kept looking the opposite way,_

_And appeared unaccountably shy.'_

* * *

'_The Bellman himself they all praised to the skies—_

_Such a carriage, such ease and such grace!_

_Such solemnity, too! One could see he was wise,_

_The moment one looked in his face!'_

By the time Wilson and House arrived at the reception, it was in full swing. The call of a free and catered lunch had ushered most of the hospital's staff from their hiding places.

'Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves,' exclaimed Wilson perusing the crowd.

'Hmm, worse than actors at the sight of free food,' answered House disparagingly.

'Have you ever even been around actors with free food?'

'Yes,' House shook his head and rolled his eyes in mock horror, 'one of the worst occasions I have ever witnessed in my life. They were vicious. Its amazing anyone made it out alive.'

Wilson shook his head in disbelief, before changing the subject. 'Where's Allison? I don't see her.'

'No idea.' House let his eyes scan the room for his wife. 'But, I gather from the puddle under Cuddy that's the twit of honor.' House nodded his head to an area near the punch bowl where Cuddy and a small group of admiring women where clustered around a handsome, blonde-headed man.

'Is Allison with them?'

'Nope,' came a reply at Wilson's shoulder. 'I'm not,' Cameron glanced at her husband, 'but I so will be.' Pushing her way through the crowd, Cameron made her way to Cuddy and Dr. Wendum.

'What's that about?' asked Wilson in surprise, but House didn't answer. He was staring at the little cluster, easing his way across the room towards his wife.

'Oh lord,' sighed Wilson to no one in concern, 'this isn't going to be pretty.' Carefully, he started to follow House.

* * *

'_He had bought a large map representing the sea,_

_Without the least vestige of land:_

_And the crew were much pleased when they found it to be_

_A map they could all understand.'_

'Dr. Cameron.' The look Cuddy gave Cameron was a warning mixed with annoyance. 'Is the patient doing better?'

'Yes, much,' smiled Cameron taking her cue, 'all taken care of.'

'Good.' Cuddy turned to Wendum who was in conversation with a young nurse from pediatrics. 'Dr. Albert Wendum, may I present Dr. Allison Cameron.'

Instantly, Wendum's attention left the nurse and focused entirely on Cameron. With a tilt of his head, his eyes sought hers as he held out his hand and smiled brightly.

Without thinking, Cameron placed her hand in his. In a quick, but eloquent movement, Wendum raised Cameron's hand to his lips and kissed it gently. 'It is a pleasure.'

'Thank you, Dr. Wendum,' Cameron blushed brightly and glanced at her hand which Wendum remained holding.

'Please, call me Albert, or Culum, which ever one you would prefer. I answer to both.'

Gently, Cameron removed her hand from his grasp and glanced around the room in embarrassment, hoping her husband had not witnessed Wendum's open display of interest. 'Is there one you prefer over the other?'

'There is,' smiled Wendum, his grey eyes twinkling as he let them fall over her body. 'Is there one you prefer over the other?'

'Culum is an unusual name.'

'It's a form of Malcolm.' Wendum took a step forward, closing the space between himself and Cameron, who instinctively tried to step back, but found she couldn't as Wendum had backed her against a table. In a manner of seconds he had unconsciously moved her from Cuddy and the group. Again Cameron blushed deeply as she contemplated a means of escape.

'Malcolm is a nice name.' Cameron attempted to say as her eyes grew wide and the words failed her. Standing behind Wendum was her husband with a look of impending murder on his face. House extended a long hand, raised it in an odd salute and brought it down heavily Wendum's shoulder, turning him from Cameron.

'Hello. I'm Gregory House. I don't believe we've met.'

Wendum, wincing in pain, looked up at House. 'Was that necessary?'

'Yes, I really, really think it was.' Sarcasm dripped from House's words as he gave Wendum a wide-eyed knowing look.

'House!' cut in Cuddy quickly stepping between the two men. 'Stop it.'

'Stop what? I'm just introducing myself to Albie, Colculm,' House shrugged and shook his head, 'Malbert, whatever or whichever name he said.' Turning to Wendum, House stooped slightly so they would be eye level, 'You really need to figure out which personality is in the lead, so the rest of us know who to address.'

'House.' The anger in Cuddy's voice was unmistakable. 'Quit it.'

'What did I do?' asked House innocently flipping his cane, so it would swing back and smack Wendum squarely in the shin, causing the man to yelp loudly.

Cuddy turned to Wilson and Foreman who had quietly approached and were standing poised at the corner of the large circle which had formed around the scene. 'Get him out of here.'

As Wilson stepped forward to remove him, House turned and looked at Cameron who had moved to stand with her back against the wall, watching his display of jealousy.

There was apology in House's blue eyes, unfortunately for House, there was fury in Cameron's. She looked at her husband in a way which made three-fourths of the room take a step back in apprehension. Without a word to House, Cameron composed herself and stepped from the wall to Wendum's side.

'Dr. Wendum, Culum, you have my deepest apologies.' Giving him a weak smile, Cameron turned on her heel and looked at Wilson who sheepishly stepped back leaving House standing alone and blocking her exit.

'Allison,' said House, small notes of pleading and anger was in his voice.

'Please step aside, Dr. House.' Cameron bit her upper lip in agitation as crossed her arms and she stared up at House.

'Allison.' This time House's voice came as a warning, as he became aware the entire room had fallen silent and were watching the display between them. For several seconds they stood glaring at each other, then with a look of defeat, House stepped aside and let his wife stalk passed him, before he quickly followed in her wake. Standing in the back of the circle, Winslow began laughing quietly to himself.

'_But the danger was past—they had landed at last'_

_With their boxes, portmanteaus, and bags;_

_Yet at first sight the crew were not pleased with the view,_

_Which consisted of chasms and crags.'_

_The Hunting of the Snark, _by Lewis Carroll

* * *

Author's note

First, Dragon, please write more on your story! And again, thank you.

Second to answer a question or two which cropped up on my email...

Gyre and Gimple in the Wabe is from Lewis Carrolls'_ Jabberwocky._

_Twas brillig, and the slithery toves did gyre and gimple in the wabe._

_All mimsy were the borogroves and the momes wrathed outgrabe._

And yes, there is a musical of Hunting of the Snark. It was in the West End and one of the McGanns was the baker, David McCullum (Ducky on NCIS was Carroll). Absolutely beautiful music and a lot of fun. I don't know if the CD is still avaiblable or not.

So...what do you think? Can't wait to read your reviews.


	4. Chapter 4

I'm risking my life to cause marital strife between House and wife.

My Merry Ban, usually a cheery clan, my requiem, now they plan.

The Ban agrees, hate mail I'm about to receive, as you read my latest deed.

If you ask Goblin113, I'm just being mean with the following scene,

But I'm forced to write these words which might give you a fright.

Now on with the plot, let us trot.

These characters are not mine, in any shape form or kind.

It is only in their lives I dwell, to give you a thrill.

_

* * *

_

_The Bellman perceived that their spirits were low,_

_And repeated in musical tone_

_Some jokes he had kept for a season of woe—_

_But the crew would do nothing but groan._

"What the hell did you think you were doing?' stormed Cameron as she stomped through the corridor, followed closely by House. 'It's the man's first day, and what do you do? You attack him!' Cameron stopped outside the door of House's office and turned to face him. 'You are such an ass!' Not waiting for a reply, she pushed through into the office.

'I didn't attack him,' mumbled House following her in.

'Then what do you call that…that scene you just made.' Holding her arm up angrily Cameron made a gesturing motion towards the corridor beyond the glass doors.

Shrugging in denial, House limped carefully passed his wife to hide behind the safe confines of his desk. Cameron, pacing the floor in agitation, stopped, looked at him, opened her mouth to speak, changed her mind and started pacing angrily again.

Just as Cameron was about to attempt to speak again, Cuddy thundered through the glass door, her face flushed with anger.

'YOU IDIOT!' yelled Cuddy loudly. 'You complete, total, cretin of a moron!'

Without acknowledging Cameron's presence, Cuddy crossed straight to the desk laying her palms flat on surface as she bent towards House. 'Hear me Gregory House, if you so much as breathe or wiggle an eyebrow at this moment, I will fire you. Do you understand me?'

House looked up in to a face filled with fury, and wisely remained silent.

'Well?' stormed Cuddy.

'You told me not to breathe and if I can't breathe, how am I supposed to answer?'

'Give it a rest Greg,' snapped Cameron from her place across the room.

Finally acknowledging her presence, Cuddy turned to face Cameron. 'Oh no, I blame you just as much as I blame him.'

Cameron took a step forward, eyes growing wide. 'Blame me for what? For him being a jealous _ass_?'

'No' countered Cuddy, 'I blame you for not being able to keep your panties on.'

'What?' exploded Cameron.

'Oh please Cameron, everyone in this entire hospital knows you two go at it like bunnies. House has had you pinned to every surface the two of you could find. Don't think nobody sees or knows what is going on.' Turning away from the dumbfounded Cameron, Cuddy returned her fury to House. 'You are going to apologize, and your going to do it today.'

'And you!' She turned her attention back to Cameron, 'Keep your pants on. It's bad enough with him, I don't want to have to watch you with two.' Without saying another word, Cuddy flung open the door and stamped down the hallway.

For several moments neither said a word. House sat staring after Cuddy, while Cameron placed her head against the coolness of the glass wall, her back to House. Finally, as if falling out of a trace, House spoke.

'She just called you a slut,' there was a note of awe in his voice. '_You!_ _A slut_!' House laughed mildly to himself, shaking his head. 'Wow!' He glanced at his wife and noticed her back was shaking and as covered her face with one hand.

Standing, he moved around the desk to stand behind her, 'Allison,' said House quietly raising a hand to comfort her.

'If you touch me, I'll divorce you!'

House stayed his hand centimeters from Cameron's back, a look of incongruity spreading across his face. 'What?'

Cameron turned, her back pressed against the wall, as she looked at her husband. 'If you touch me, I will divorce you.' There was ice in her eyes and voice.

House blinked at her blankly. After a moment, he let his hand drop to his side and took a step back. His eyes ran over Cameron's face, searchingly. 'That's not funny Allison,' he said at last, his voice quiet with seriousness.

'It's not meant to be funny.' Her eyes glared at him with heavy animosity. 'You have made me,' she took a step forward, causing House to step take a step back, his eyes wide with surprise, 'the laughing stock of this hospital. Do you not understand that?'

Cameron stepped forward again, pushing House back another step. 'I work here Greg, and unlike you, _I care_ about my reputation both as a woman and as a doctor.'

'I know that' House managed to mumble, his mouth suddenly dry as the Sierra.

Cameron took another step, again forcing House back. The back of his legs hit the desk, causing him to sit down heavily on its edge, scattering papers.

'No, you _do not_ know that. You humiliated me in there. Isn't it bad enough half the hospital knows why I was transferred? I will not even tell you the jokes I have had to suffer from Chase and Foreman, but Greg, I can deal with that.' Cameron extended one of her manicured figures and poked House hard in the chest. 'What I cannot deal with is your petty jealousy or whatever the hell that was.'

House opened his mouth to speak, suddenly thought better of it and quickly closed it again. He half sat, half stood, mind whirling, as he wondered if he should touch her or not. His eyes were locked on Cameron's. He knew from experience she was dead serious.

Cameron looked at her husband seeing comprehension slowly drift into his eyes through the shock of her sudden outrage. Cameron took a deep breath, collecting herself before addressing him again. 'Do you want to stay married?' Her question was stern but quiet.

'Yes' nodded House, his eyes never leaving hers.

'Then never do something like that again.' Turning on her heal, Cameron stalked out of the room, leaving House in a state of bewilderment.

* * *

'_He served out some grog with a liberal hand,_

_And bade them sit down on the beach:_

_And they could not but own that their Captain looked grand,_

_As he stood and delivered his speech.'_

'Would you like some ice for that?' asked Winslow as he stood again in the interim director's office watching as Wendum rolled up the leg of his trousers.

Wendum winced as he made the final roll, revealing the beginnings of a large purple bruise, 'That would be nice thank you.'

Winslow smiled as he turned to go retrieve the ice, 'It's the least I can do.' Hesitating, he looked at Wendum with a serious expression. 'I did warn you, you know. Dr. House is not the most stable of individuals to draw breath.'

'Yes, I noticed that, thank you,' Wendum grimaced again as he felt along his shin, checking its tenderness. Glancing up, he let his face slide into an awkward smile as he watched Dr. Cameron enter the departmental offices. Winslow, knowing when it was the right time to leave a situation, made a hasty excuse before departing.

Cameron entered Wendum's office with apologetic trepidation.

'Is it too bad?' she asked quietly seeing the wound on her new boss's leg.

'No, not really, it's just incredibly painful,' Wendum smiled at her brightly. 'I believe I will live, it's not mortal.' Self-consciously, he began unrolling his trousers, aware Cameron was watching him. From the expression on her face, he realized she was taking the entire incident personally.

'I'm really sorry,' stammered Cameron.

Wendum tilted his head, a faint smile on his lips as he considered her. 'It truly is not your fault if Dr. House is a lunatic, Allison. _You_ have nothing to be sorry for.'

Shaking her head in objection, Cameron looked at the floor considering what to say, but Wendum continued before she could speak.

'I have to say, I do not quite understand how you have worked with him as long as you have done. It must have been very traumatizing for you.'

'Not really.'

There was confusion in Wendum's quiet voice as he allowed his grey eyes drift over Cameron. 'You must have a very strong constitution to defend such a tyrant,' He paused, his eyes meeting Cameron's, 'or are there other actions which warrant your defense of the man?'

Cameron met his gaze, questioning on her face, 'I think I'm at a loss, Dr. Wendum.'

Wendum frowned as he rose from his chair and moved to stand next to Cameron. Too close to her in Cameron's opinion. Looking up into his face, she could see the beginnings of lines of age forming around his eyes and along his mouth. She shuttered involuntary as he reached out and lifted her hand in his. 'It's quite alright Allison, Dr. Winslow has already informed me about the transfer and how House,' he paused searching for the right words while allowing his thumb to lightly massage the back of Cameron's hand, 'made your life difficult.'

Cameron stepped back from Wendum, while simultaneously pulling away her hand. 'Dr. Wendum,' there was irritation in Cameron's voice. 'I am not certain what you have been told, but I know what you need to be told.'

'Excuse me?' asked Wendum in surprise as he tilted his hear looking at her. There was an amused smile playing on the edge of his lips.

'I am assuming you are not aware of the fact _I am married_.' Cameron could not hide her irritability, 'Happily married, in fact.'

The expression on Wendum's face was one of he just being slapped. His eyes grew large with confusion. 'I was led to believe you were a widow.'

Cameron's eyes narrowed, 'Who told you that?'

'Dr. Cuddy did this morning. She mentioned you became interested in immunology after the death of your husband. So, naturally I assumed.'

'You assumed wrong,' announced Cameron, her hands falling characteristically to her hips in irritation. 'My first husband died, my second husband cracked your shin.'

This time it was Wendum's eyes which narrowed as realization dawned on him. He looked over Cameron's head searching for Winslow, before finally returning his attention to Cameron, '_You're married to House?_'

'Yes!' stated Cameron matter-of-factly.

The room was suddenly filled with rich, full-throated laugher. 'Are you serious?' gasped Wendum between burst of laugher.

'Yes,' answered Cameron, glancing around in consternation.

'_That_ is bloody brilliant.' hollowed Wendum to no one in particular, 'This is just dead incredible. You're married to _House_.' He laughed wildly for a few more moments before he began getting his mirth under control. Finally regaining control of himself, Wendum moved back to his chair and sat, looking as if he were the Cheshire Cat. His eyes glittering as he smiled at Cameron in amusement. 'You must excuse me, really you must. I just find the entire thing entirely amusing.'

Cameron gave Wendum a look which stated he was a madman before she deemed to answer his comments. 'Okay' she stated hesitatingly, 'No problem. If will excuse me, I have patients I have been neglecting.'

Wendum, throwing a hand up in the air, motioned Cameron could depart as his tried to hold in more laughter, 'Brilliant. I'll see you later then.'

Nodding in trepidation, Cameron made a hasty retreat from the office a look of bewilderment on her face, as Wendum watched her go. Once Cameron had passed through doorway into the corridor, Wendum leaned back in his chair, tucking his arms behind his head. 'You're married to House.' He grinned broadly, 'Let the games begin and may the best man win.' Kicking out with his foot, Wendum spun in his chair towards the window. 'This is going to be fun.'

'_Come listen, my men, while I tell you again_

_The five unmistakable marks_

_By which you may know, wheresoever you go,_

_The warranted genuine Snarks.'_

_The Hunting of the Snark, _by Lewis Carroll

* * *

Author's note: Not mine, just a product of my demented mind.

OK...Let the tomatoes fly!


	5. Chapter 5

We, the Merry Ban, have taken matters into our own hands.

Force has been used, for our patience were abused,

Tricks we have played, in order for the writer we have enslaved.

Bound to the chair, how many hours, we do not care

Just as long as Wendum, gets what's coming to him.

I, The Dove, insist the story contains aspects of love

All of you must agree, with the rest of the Ban and me.

The writer takes delight, in mental anguish and sleepless nights.

Now the story must begin, with the idea love will not end.

The writer says a disclaimer we must state, before it is too late.

So with out further ado, we so ensue

These character are not ours, we just play with them for hours.

_The Dove (and CBB strapped to a chair forced to write)_

* * *

'"_For, although common Snarks do no manner of harm,_

_Yet, I feel it is my duty to say_

_Some are Boojums-" The Bellman broke off in alarm_

_For the Baker had fainted away.'"_

For the remainder of the afternoon, House sat in his office stewing. Chase and Foreman had made appearances now and again to ask obligatory questions they could have easily solved themselves if they had put any thought into them. But, House really didn't care about the happenings of his patients; he was more concerned with the sudden shift in the attitude of his wife. For Cameron to remain angry for any extended amount of time was unusual. The fact her anger was repeatedly being directed at him, was worrisome.

Deep in his heart, House knew Cameron was happy about the new baby. He also knew she was extremely unhappy working solely for immunology. There she did not receive the challenges she did in diagnostics, plus they had both quickly discovered the late shifts and grunt work she was performing were ploys by Winslow to show he was in charge, even if temporarily.

House assumed Cameron missed them working together as much as he did. In many marriages, a husband and wife living and working together meant for disastrous circumstance. For House and Cameron, it brought about a greater cohesion. Cameron had accused him of not caring for her or his own reputation, which was, in part, far from the truth. House smiled to himself as he ascended to the next level of his videogame. Cameron was wrong. Of all the ducklings, Cameron had always stood out. It was she who, usually by taking in the human element, was able to discover the diagnosis almost as quickly as could he, himself. In fact it was House's opinion his wife could one day surpass him on a professional level. Although he would be immensely proud of her, if it were possible to be more proud than he already was, he hoped she gained her place in the medical ranks after his demise. As much as he told himself he would not be petty, he knew his ego was delicate and dangerous.

So, thought House, we let our libidos get the better of us. Why not? He found his wife to be an incredibly desirable woman who. normally, was a willing participant in their fores.

Cuddy was just jealous, thought House, jealous on many different levels.

House looked up from his game as the sound of the telephone broke him from his revering. Hoisting himself up from his chair, he crossed the room and snatched the telephone from its receiver.

'What?'

'_Dr. House?'_ came the sound of a young woman's voice on the other end of the line. '_This is Haliegh in the nursery.'_

'Yes?' snapped House in frustration when the voice did not continue.

'_I… I'm calling for Dr. Cameron. May I speak to her, please?' _House sighed. Since the day, two months ago, when Emma, feeling a bit adventurous, had managed to toddle out the nursery doors unnoticed, and journeyed half way down a hospital corridor before discovery of her absence was made, no one in the nursery was willing to speak or deal with him.

'Why?' asked House, his patience waning.

'_I called immunology, but no one answered, so I thought Dr. Cameron may be there.'_

House held the phone out from his ear and looked at it as if the phone itself was being obtuse, before he spoke again. 'If you called immunology and Cameron wasn't there, it means she is with patients, in the lab, or in the clinic. What is it you want?'

'_I'm sorry Dr. House, but Adele says we should only speak with Dr. Cameron. _The girl hesitated a moment, uncertain whether she should say her next words or not. '_She says you will overreact.'_

'Damn it,' brayed House into the phone, 'just tell me already.'

'_Emma fell.'_

'And?' demanded House. 'Toddlers fall, that's why it is called toddling.'

'_We took her in downstairs to be checked, just to make certain. It wasn't too bad, just a nasty scrape.' _Haliegh laughed lightly in his ear, '_I think she thought the sight of blood was cool._'

House rolled his eyes towards the ceiling, swearing profusely under his breath. Knowing the nursery director, Adele, had threatened to expel Emma and never allow her to return to the nursery physicality if House continued to cause problems, House spoke with all the patience he could muster. 'I'll be right there.'

'_Uh, Dr. House,_' there was a pause from Haleigh on the other end of the line, '_I thought you were forbidden to come up here anymore.'_

House did not bother to reply. Slamming down the phone, he reached for his cane, and made for the door to discover what had occurred to his daughter.

* * *

'_They roused him with muffins—they roused him with ice_

_They roused him with mustard and cress_

_They roused him with jam and judicious advice_

_They set him conundrums to guess._

_When at length he sat up and was able to speak,_

_His sad story he offered to tell;_

_And the Bellman cried "Silence! Not a shriek!"_

_And excitedly tingled his bell.'_

Wilson stopped with a look of surprise on his face. Normally, when House saw him in the hallway, he would speak or make a snarky remark, not walk by without any form of acknowledgement. Sensing something was wrong, Wilson ran to catch up to his friend.

'Hey, where's the fire?' asked Wilson jogging up to House's side.

'Emma fell,' House gave Wilson a sidelong glance, 'and the nursery can't find Cameron.'

Wilson halted in his steps, reaching out a staying hand on House's arm. 'Stop. Wait a moment.' Stopping reluctantly, House turned to Wilson.

'Yes?' he said in annoyance, giving Wilson an impatient look.

'What do you mean Emma fell?'

House gave Wilson a stare of imbecility. 'I assume that's what one does when they are in the early stages of learning to walk. You know Jimmy, that theory by Newton or some other guy with some fruit.'

'Is she hurt?'

House rolling his eyes, dismissed Wilson, and began again his trek to the nursery. 'I would assume since they are looking for Cameron and mentioned blood.'

Once again, Wilson caught up to House. 'You're not allowed up there, remember.'

House stopped and stooped to look into Wilson's face. 'I know that, but they mentioned blood.'

'You can't afford to piss off Cuddy any more than she is today, and if you go up there Adele is going to call her the moment she sees you.' Wilson added hastily. 'Let me go. I'll see what happened to Emma, and you can go find Cameron.'

Throwing his arms up in the air, House looked at the ceiling in exasperation, before returning his focus on Wilson. 'They mentioned blood.'

Wilson took a deep breath and held it before releasing it slowly, 'What exactly did they say?'

'Emma fell, it looked like a nasty scrape, and they took her to be checked. Okay. Does that make you happy?' snapped House.

Wilson smiled at his friend. He would never have believed House would have taken to fatherhood as serious as he had. 'It doesn't _sound_ too bad, so why don't you let uncle Jimmy go see.' Before House could protest Wilson continued, 'I'll collect Emma and meet you in the cafeteria for milk and cookies. In the meantime, you can go find Cameron and threaten her new boss some more.'

House stood, contemplating Wilson's suggestion. Finally, with reluctance, he gave in. 'Fine. But know this is under extreme protest.'

Again, Wilson smiled at his friend, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement. 'See you in the cafeteria in a few.'

Nodding his head and making a face, House turned to proceed down a different corridor to find his wife.

* * *

'_There was silence supreme! Not a shriek, not a scream_

_Scarcely even a howl or a groan_

_As the man they called "Ho!" told his story of woe_

_In an antediluvian tone.'_

Arriving at the Department of Immunology, House discovered it was practically empty with the exception of a med-student House thought was named Quigby, or Quincey, or something of that order, and for Winslow. Ignoring the niceties of politely knocking before entering, House pushed open the door and strolled into the old man's office. Winslow, who had been half dosing while working on patients' files, jumped as House entered

'She's not here,' said Winslow crustily before House had an opportunity to speak.

He kept his focus glued to the files, hoping House would go away if he wished it hard enough.

'I can see that. Want to tell me where she is?' asked House, as he let his eyes wonder around the office, before settling on Winslow's shining bald head.

'Teaching a class at the medical school with Wendum,' mumbled Winslow, knowing by pretending to be intent on his paper work he would annoy House.

Raising an eyebrow in surprise, House studied the old man. 'Aren't you the one who's supposed to be teaching a class at the medical school?'

Winslow didn't answer.

Nodding his head, while biting his lower lip, House began to twirl his cane, waiting for the old man to reply. House could feel the tension mounting in the room.

Finally having enough, Winslow dropped his hand on his desk, causing the pen in his hand to make a slapping sound, as he sat back in his chair and looked at House.

'What do you want?' his agitation was apparent.

House stopped twirling his cane and looked nonchalantly at Winslow. 'I was just wondering why Cameron is at the medical school with mister multiple personalities and names? I mean, isn't that the only thing you have left to do, to teach your class?'

Winslow sighed in aggravation, giving House a filthy look. 'Dr. Wendum will be taking over the classes when I depart. I, therefore, asked Dr. Cameron to escort him there so he would know where the class was meeting. And,' continued Winslow, closing the file on his desk, 'if you really have to know, today's lecture was on mycobaterial diseases and immune globulins, both subjects of which, I felt Dr. Cameron was more than capable of handling.'

'With her eyes closed,' murmured House, wondering how much longer it was going to be before the old man cracked. He could see little beads of sweat forming on the bald head.

'Is there anything else Dr. House?' Winslow's impatience was becoming tangible.

"Several actually,' smiled House slowly. 'One, what time is the class over? Two, have you any other trite and pedantic tasks lined up for my wife this evening? And, finally, three, are you as big of an idiot as I think you are?'

Winslow scowled at House in hatred before answering. 'It's a double session, so it will be at least nine this evening before the class is supposed to dismiss. I also believe Dr. Cameron has patients she will need to attend to before she can leave.'

House's eyes narrowed as he leant forward across Winslow's desk, making the old man scoot back his chair. 'I'm getting very tired of you.'

Winslow smiled slightly as his eyes met House's, 'You should have thought of that before you told _my_ _wife_ I was having an affair with one of the nurses. In fact, I believe you went so far as to try to blackmail me by threatening to reveal an imaginary child from the relationship; did you not?' Winslow's smile grew larger. 'Let's face it; as long as I am still here_, you_ are going to suffer. If I have to do it through _your wife_, then that is exactly what I am going to do, and there is nothing you can do about it.'

If looks could have killed, the look House was giving Winslow would have certainly smitten him on the spot. 'We will see,' replied House quietly. 'That is, if I don't have retina damage from the glare coming off the top of your head.'

Before he could continue, or even begin, his tirade against Winslow, House's beeper sounded. Yanking it from his belt, he looked at it and frowned. Lifting his cane from Winslow's desk, House smiled as the old man flinched, thinking House was about to hit him. 'This isn't over,' he announced as he turned to leave the room. 'Believe me.'

Once the door had closed behind House, Winslow let out a long, slow sigh of relief and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the sweat from his head.

* * *

' "_My father and mother were honest, though poor—"_

"_Skip all that!" cried the Bellman in haste._

"_If it once becomes dark, there's no chance of a Snark—_

_We have hardly a minute to waste!"'_

House arrived in the cafeteria to find Wilson sitting at a table, surrounded by young women oohing and awing over Emma, who was sitting in Wilson's lap with a large pink Band-Aid attacked to her chin. On a tray in from of Wilson was a child-size cup with a straw and a plate containing French fries.

Upon seeing her father, Emma smiled, looking remarkably like an infant version of Cameron with House's eyes. 'Ies,' exclaimed the child holding up a fry to him as House sat down and transferred her to his own lap.

'That's what they are alright, cholesterol and all.' House gave Wilson a look to show his displeasure. 'Was there nothing else to give her?'

'She wanted fries,' responded Wilson innocently as he smiled at Emma who was holding out a fry for him to eat. Taking it, he bit down on it and made a silly face, causing the child to laugh.

House made a huffing noise as he gently turned his daughter's face to his. 'Can Daddy see your boo-boo?' he asked gently.

Emma looked at him with large eyes. Still holding a chip in each hand, she raised a little hand and pointed a little finger to her face. 'Ouch,' she grinned before trying to press one of the potatoes into House's nose.

'See,' said Wilson, 'she is perfectly fine, and you didn't get thrown out of the nursery again.'

'Did they say how it happened?' asked House as Emma bit into a fry and then held it out for him to bite.

'She was just playing, nothing serious. Isn't that right Emma, just a little accident.'

House made a face of skepticism, before smiling brightly at his daughter, hugging her up to him. 'Are you ready to go home with Daddy?'

Emma's face changed, and House could see tears forming at the edge of her eyes, 'Mommy?' asked the child forgetting entirely about her game with the food.

'Nope, still just you and Daddy,' replied House sweetly, as he kissed one of Emma's cherub cheeks, before standing with the baby held awkwardly in his arms.

Rising with them, Wilson picked up the tray and followed House across the cafeteria.

'Cameron has to work late again,' asked Wilson.

'Yep,' answered House, shifting Emma's weight in his arms. 'and she's with Wendum.'

_Poem: The Hunting of the Snark_ by Lewis Carroll


	6. Chapter 6

The wind blows as I watch it snow, letting music play

I have no rhyme in mind at the time

I need only to say, these characters are not mine, without further delay.

* * *

"_I'll skip forty years," said the Baker, in tears,_

"_And proceed without further remark_

_To the day when you took me aboard of your ship_

_To help you in hunting the Snark."_

Every bone in Cameron's body was beginning to ache. Taking off her glasses, she ran a hand over her face, rubbing lightly at her weary eyes. The stress of the last month was beginning to take its toll. Replacing her glasses, she looked up from the podium and out to the faces of the students before her. Some, their heads dropped, were quickly scribbling notes, while others, with glazed expressions, stared at her in boredom or confusion.

'As I was stating,' intoned Cameron wearily, 'if immune globulins are produced from pooled human blood plasma, would someone being given an Ig be acceptable to infectious cotangents from the donor?' Glancing at the seating chart, Cameron let her eyes drift over the students. 'Benjamin Matthews?'

The sandy brown head of a young man snapped to attention, as he pretended he had not just been caught whispering to the young lady sitting next to him.

'Yes,… I mean no. Prior to use, each Ig is tested for evidence of hepatitis B & C, rabies, tetanus, AIDs, or any other blood-borne viruses and bacteria. Any units that carry these viruses are immediately eliminated, plus there are the chemical sterilization processes which will prevent other disease-causing germs.'

'Correct,' said Cameron, nodding her head in agreement, 'and Miss…' Cameron again consulted the seating chart to determine the name of the young lady beside Matthews, 'Heidi Marcus. Please tell me what symptoms would present to a patient who has been known to react to thimerosal or other Igs?'

Heidi, who had been musing over Matthews being individualized in the class, froze, her eyes growing wide.

'Ms. Marcus' asked Cameron again. 'What signs would present themselves?'

'Um,' stammered the girl, 'there would be swollen lips, difficulty breathing, tenderness, and uh, a body rash at the beginning, then it could escalate into shock?'

'And what is the time period between receiving an Ig and a vaccination for measles, mumps, or rubella?'

Again Heidi looked flustered, 'a week?'

'Three months, Ms. Marcus,' corrected Cameron quickly, before looking to the clock at the back of the classroom. 'Alright, next class Dr. Wendum will be discussing hantavirus, also known as HPS, its symptoms, exposures, and mortality rate. Class dismissed.'

There was a general rustling sound as the students collected their belongings and exited the classroom. Cameron, exhausted from working too many late nights and being unused to the demands of teaching, leaned heavily against the podium as she turned off the audio-visual equipment.

'Excellent lecture Allison,' came the rich-voice of Wendum from the back of room as he made his way towards the lectern. 'You should be an instructor.'

'Too tiring,' smiled Cameron lightly. 'Plus, like my husband, I like trying to solve the puzzle.'

Wendum stood before her, a quizzical look on his face, 'The puzzle? I never thought of immunology as a puzzle.'

'But diagnostics is.' Cameron bent to pick up her satchel from its place under the podium and began to arrange her papers. 'You must find the problem, what is wrong, and what is happening or your patient may die.'

Wendum looked at her, a smile at the corners of his mouth as he let his grey eyes fall across her body, 'I do not believe death should be looked at as a game Allison.'

Looking up from placing her things in her bag, Cameron considered him for a moment. 'Neither do I Dr. Wendum.'

For several seconds neither said a word as they studied the other's reaction, then Wendum, breaking the silence, smiled demurely, 'Culum, please.'

Dismissing him, Cameron pulled her bag onto her shoulder, 'Ready to go Dr. Wendum? It's late.'

Wendum smiled brightly as held out his arm indicating he would follow Cameron. They were each silent till they reached Cameron's car. Reaching for her keys, Cameron tapped the electronic device on her keychain which instantly unlocked both the driver and passenger side doors. Unceremoniously, Cameron opened the rear door and dropped her bag into the floorboard, before joining Wendum in the front of the vehicle.

Wendum gave Cameron a few moments to snap in her seat belt and start the car before he spoke. 'May I buy you dinner?' he asked, giving her a sidelong glance.

There was instantly tension in the vehicle as Cameron returned the drive column to park and turned in her seat to face Wendum.

'I am married.' The statement was made in a clear, flat tone.

Wendum laughed lightly as he turned in his seat to face Cameron.

'I am aware of that.'

'Then please acknowledge it,' the look on her face told him she was loosing her patience with him.

'I do and I am thank you.' This time it was his voice which was impatient. 'Did I not apologize to you for my earlier behavior and for my amusement at finding you married to someone like House?'

'You did,' Cameron answered begrudgingly, the trepidation obvious in her voice.

'I also believe I have conducted myself as a perfect gentleman since that time, have I not?' Wendum raised an eyebrow as he looked at her; his eyes were half hidden in shadow.

'You have.'

'Then may I ask Dr. Cameron, as it is going on half-eight in the evening, why I cannot buy purchase a meal for myself and a colleague?' Wendum took a deep breath, construing his face into a posture of up most seriousness before continuing, 'I am absolutely starving, and if the growls, gurgles, and grumbles from your midsection is any indication, so are you!' Crossing his arm dramatically, he turned forward in his seat and gazed out at the night.

She had laughed, not meaning to, which irritated Cameron. Try as she may, she found she was beginning to like her new boss even if he was obviously interested in more than an employee employer relationship with her.

'I beg your pardon, I jumped to conclusions,' said Cameron, trying desperately to hide her amusement at seeing Wendum pout like a small child. The way he kept checking to see if she was paying attention to him, reminded her greatly of House and Emma, when they did not get their own way. Their arms tightly folded across their chest, with large puppy dog eyes attached.

'So' asked Wendum, 'must both of us perish, or are we allowed to dine?'

Giving him a mock look of disgust, Cameron reached behind her seat and pulled her cell phone from her bag. 'I will feed you, but I need to call home first. And,' interjected Cameron seeing Wendum was about to make a smug remark about winning their squabble, 'the moment we have eaten, I am returning you to the hospital. I have patients I need to see before I finally get to go home.'

'Fine,' smiled Wendum brightly, settling down into his seat, 'call that manic you married and then let us go.'

Cameron smiled to herself as she flipped open the phone and pressed the button for home.

* * *

"_A dear uncle of mine (after whom I was named)_

_Remarked, when I bade him farewell--"_

"_Oh, skip your dear uncle!" the Bellman exclaimed,_

_As he angrily tingled his bell."_

'What?' shouted House into the receiver of the telephone while placing a finger in his ear so he could hear over the screams of his daughter.

'_Greg?'_ came the hesitant, but anxious sound of his wife's voice. _'What wrong? Why is Emma screaming?'_

'Because she feels like it,' snapped House. 'She's screamed for the last twenty minutes.'

'_What did you do?'_ The tone of Cameron's voice was accusing.

House blew air into his upper lip and rolled his eyes towards the ceiling before answering. 'I didn't _do_ anything. I _suggested_ someone quit running around like a wild animal and eat their dinner. Some how the notion of us waiting to eat with Mommy hasn't managed to occur, again, tonight.' He made a point to emphasis the last two words.

There was silence for several moments, and then Cameron's voice came back onto the phone. _'Can you put Emma on the phone please?'_

'Why?' snarked House, 'She doesn't have a very large vocabulary and she turns it upside down. If I give it to her, she'll drool on it or something.'

'_Greg_,' snapped Cameron, '_hold the phone up to Emma's ear._'

'Okay, give me a moment.' Laying down the receiver, House turned to the highchair where his daughter sat crying. Macaroni and cheese and mashed potatoes were stuck to her face and clung to her hands, hair, and clothing. Picking up a towel, he tried to wipe away noodles, tears and snot before retrieving the phone and holding it to his daughter's ear. 'Speak to Mommy,' House said in as much of a smoothing tone as he could muster.

Emma looked at her father with defiance in her eyes. 'NO!' she shrieked.

Shaking her head violently and swinging her arms, Emma knocked the receiver from House's hand. Retrieving it quickly, House gave his daughter an evil look, before placing it to his own ear. 'She doesn't want to talk to you.'

He could tell from Cameron's silence she was not happy.

'When will you be home?' asked House quickly, trying to change the subject.

'_It's going to be a while still_,' came Cameron's quiet response. '_We just finished class, and I still have to check some patients.'_

'We?'

'_Dr. Wendum is with me.'_

House stood silent, waiting for his wife to continue. He could tell from the tone of her voice she was tired and irritable. For a minute or two neither one said a word. Emma, sensing something was happening, fell silent and looked at her father questioningly.

'_Emma's quiet._' Cameron said at last.

'Our little daughter is a very clever and astute person Allison. She can tell when her daddy is about to say something very mean and very nasty.'

'_Greg_,' breath Cameron in his ear, '_not now, please_.'

Again House stood silent. He let his eyes wonder around the room before finally settling on Emma, who sat staring at him. 'What do you want me to say Allison?'

This time it was Cameron who was quiet. She looked at Wendum, wishing he could not hear her husband's voice coming across the telephone, but she knew he could. He was watching her closely, and an uncomfortable tension had settled across the car. For these reasons, Cameron chose not to speak and remained silent, hoping her husband would understand the situation she was in.

When the silence felt in terminal, House finally spoke again. 'I need to clean the baby.' His voice was calm and quiet.

'_Okay_,' came Cameron's reply, '_I'll see you soon_.' Not waiting to hear House's reply, Cameron closed the phone and returned it to her bag before turning to Wendum, praying he would not comment. Luckily for Cameron, Wendum had enough decorum to act as if he had not heard what was going to be a potentially brutal fight between husband and wife.

'Hungry?' asked Wendum when he at last thought it was safe to speak.

Not trusting herself to speak, Cameron nodded, as she placed the car into reverse and backed from the parking spot. She prayed the street lights casting light from above would not reveal the tears forming at the edge of her eyes.

"_He remarked to me then," said that mildest of men,_

"'_If your Snark be a Snark, that is right:_

_Fetch it home by all means—you may serve it with greens,_

_And it's handy for striking a light.'"_

_The Hunting of the Snark_, By Lewis Carroll


	7. Chapter 7

I escaped my chair, but do not despair.

The story is far from over.

The Ban is sharpening knives, with strange glints in their eyes.

Perhaps I should seek cover?

My blood they may spray, if I continue this game I play

I glance at them and shutter.

But I tell you reader, there's no need for the preacher

My prayers I need not to utter.

I shall survive this day, and tomorrow I'll play,

As long as I have words to stutter.

My Ban is amused, for they assume

Work, I have not other.

There are papers to grade, and so without delay

I give you the disclaimer.

These characters are not mine, in any shape, form, or kind

I am not their claimer.

* * *

"'_You may seek it with thimbles—and seek it with care;_

_You may hunt it with forks and hope;_

_You may threaten its life with a railway-share;_

_You may charm it with smiles and soap—'"_

The restaurant was carefully chosen by Cameron. It was a place where, if she were seen with Wendum, no one would raise any questions as to why. Its location between the medical school and the hospital, combined with its reputation for a quick and substantial meal, made it idea. On any given day, any member of the hospital staff could enter the restaurants' door and find at least three people with whom they worked.

Sliding into her place in a booth, Cameron cringed as she heard her stomach rumble loudly. She realized she had not eaten since early that morning. Grabbing a menu from its rest in the center of the table, Cameron told herself she would pursue over the items available even though she had long ago memorized the its contents. Using the menu as a shield, Cameron allowed herself to examine the man sitting across the table from her.

With an expert eye, almost as keen as her husband's, Cameron took in information about Wendum.

_Vain_, she thought, his clothing was perfectly pressed and expensive. _Nice looking, too_. She could tell from the drape of his jacket and the pull of his shirt there was an excellent body hidden beneath his clothing. _Not much older than I am; five, six years at the most, _she told herself, e_ducated and well-mannered_.

'Do you see anything you like?' asked Wendum knowingly and without looking up from the menu; there was amusement in his voice.

Startled, Cameron looked at the menu. 'Chicken salad on lettuce is nice. Greg likes their burgers, Wilson usually eats the pasta, Foreman likes their Reuben, and Chase usually orders whatever is the special of the day.' Cameron knew she was rambling to hide her embarrassment of being caught checking out Wendum.

Wendum grinned wider as he looked up, his eyes taking in Cameron's embarrassment. 'Aren't you married?' he asked in innocent mischievous.

Cameron could feel her face glow brighter. 'Caught me, and yes, I am very married,'

Closing his menu, Wendum glanced around, assuring himself no one was near enough to over hear as he leaned his arm on the table, drawing closer to Cameron. 'Do you repeatedly say that to warn me off, or is it a means of reminding yourself of your nuptials?'

Again, Cameron could feel her face burning, but this time it wasn't with embarrassment.

'Wouldn't you like to know,' she replied giving Wendum her best look of innocence. Unconsciously, she too had leant forward.

A chuckle of amusement rumbled deep within Wendum's chest as their eyes connected.

'Yes, actually, I would very much like to know.'

They sat that way for two entire minutes; their eyes locked, with amused smirks on each of their faces. The moment was palpable.

Relief washed over Cameron in waves as both she and Wendum became aware of a third party who was discreetly clearing their throat at the side of the table. 'Are you ready to order Dr. Cameron?'

'_Damn_,' thought Cameron, '_why does it have to be someone who knows me?'_ then, speaking aloud, 'Richard. You're working late this evening.' Cameron motioned to Wendum in way of introduction. 'Richard, Dr. Wendum'

The man and the boy nodded to each other in acknowledgement.

'Dr. Wendum,' said Richard in cold politeness. Wendum could not help, but to notice the look of distaste on the boy's face.

Retrieving his menu, Wendum glanced again at its contents, then at Cameron. 'Allison, would like a bottle of wine?'

'No thank you. Just a cup of soup and BLT with water will be fine.'

Undeterred, Wendum persisted, 'Maybe just a glass then, or perhaps a drink?'

'Sorry,' answered Cameron, glancing at Richard. 'I can't.'

Wendum looked at her skeptically. 'Don't trust yourself?' he asked. The question was laced with innuendo.

Cameron smiled. 'I am a paragon of self-control, when I want to be. So, yes, I trust myself implicitly.' Very much aware Richard was taking in every word and action transpiring between them, Cameron pulled the menu from Wendum's hand and handed it to the waiter. 'Richard, Dr. Wendum will have _my husband's_ usual.'

Grinning, Richard scribbled their order and left to collect their meal. Once he was away, and Cameron was sure no more attention was being given to them, she leaned towards Wendum. 'What would it take to get you to stop this?'

'I can think of several things,' replied Wendum seriously as Richard reappeared with two glasses of water.

Thanking him, Cameron again waited till the waiter had disappeared into the kitchens, before speaking, 'Wendum,' she began.

'Culum,' Wendum interrupted.

'Dr. Wendum,' Cameron began again, 'Nothing is going to come of this. I agreed to have dinner with you as a hungry colleague, and that is it. This was not, and is not a date.' She waited for him to reply. When no acknowledgment came, Cameron continued. 'I don't know what you've been told, or have assumed, but believe me when I say, this must stop. House was almost behaving himself today.'

'You call your husband by his last name?' asked Wendum. He had been watching her intently.

'Yes, sometimes, but usually only at work or when I am referring to him when speaking with a _colleague._'

Wendum smiled nonchalantly as Richard appeared carrying two plates of food. Wendum waited until Richard had been assured neither required a thing and disappeared, before he spoke. 'From what I have seen and heard today, even though you have told me repeatedly you are_ happily_ married; I must wonder if you actually are.'

'How many times do I have to say I am?' asked Cameron a little too loudly.

'Fine,' said Wendum at last. 'Let us drop the subject as I partake of your husband's usual.'

For the remainder of the dinner, little was said.

* * *

"'_But oh, beamish nephew, beware of the day,_

_If your snark be a Boojum! For then_

_You will softly and suddenly vanish away,_

_And never be met with again!"_

Cameron pulled into her spot in the parking garage, grateful to finally be back at the hospital. She was exhausted and was coming down with a case of indigestion, but she also knew she needed to review the progress of three patients before she went home. It could feasibly wait, but Cameron planned on doing it quickly and leaving. Letting her mind drift to the memory of the previous night, it played heavily on her mind. Cameron knew she had made a mistake telling House she was pregnant; she should have waited until she had sorted out her own feelings before telling him. She also knew she should have waited for a more auspicious moment. Cameron had no doubt House's terseness had to do with her reaction to the pregnancy.

Getting out of the car, Cameron waited patiently for Wendum, who was being usually quiet and demure.

'Thank you for dinner,' Cameron said politely as Wendum came around the car to stand next to her.

'It is I who should thank you actually,' smiled Wendum. 'You have been a very charitable hostess and, may I add, a very tolerant one. I have learned a great deal today.'

Cameron nodded. 'It must have definitely been an interesting first day.'

Wendum took a step forward, closing the space between himself and Cameron. His breath was freezing in the night air. 'It most definitely was' he mutter throatily. Without warning, Wendum lurched forward pushing Cameron against the car, trapping her body with his own. Grabbing her wrists, he firmly held out her arms as his mouth descended on hers. Struggling to break free from his grasp, Cameron found she was pinned tightly in place. As Cameron opened her mouth to scream, Wendum slipped his tongue into her mouth, kissing her deeply. The weight of his body and force of the kiss robbing Cameron of air, making her struggles more difficult. Just as she thought she was going to pass out from the crushing weight of Wendum's body, he pulled back with a self-satisfied look on his face. He made certain to maintain the hold he had on Cameron's wrist and body.

'Get off me!' cried Cameron trying desperately to break his hold.

'I thought you wanted this?' Wendum whispered before his mouth connected again with hers, his tongue pleading for entrance as Cameron cried out in anger and pain. Pulling back after a few seconds, Wendum dropped his head into Cameron's throat, exploring it with little kisses. She could feel him becoming extremely aroused.

'Don't do this,' pleaded Cameron, still fighting to break free. 'Please, stop please, I'm pregnant.' She was beginning to sob uncontrollably as Wendum's hold tightened and he began grinding himself against her. 'Do you hear me, I'm pregnant. Please stop, please!'

Shutting her eyes tightly, Cameron forced herself to remain calm. She knew if she became hysterical, Wendum would be able to overpower her and all would be lost. Thinking he had reduced her into submission, Wendum loosened his hold, giving Cameron a chance to act. Using every ounce of her strength, Cameron pushed hard against him, knocking him off balance.

'Get off me!' she screamed, tears rolling down her face. Desperately Cameron sought a means of escape.

Wendum, who had fallen on his ass, looked at her in amazement. 'What do you mean get off you, I thought you wanted this?'

'What part of _NO_ do you not understand?' yelled Cameron loudly, her fear quickly being replaced by anger. 'Pinning someone against a car as they scream is just…is just,' her brain was firing so quickly she couldn't find the right words. 'Damn it, no_ means no_!'

Wendum slowly rose to his feet, his hands outstretched in front of him so Cameron could see them. He made a point of keeping a spacious distance between them. Confusion was evident in his face, 'Just calm down Allison, this is obviously a very large misunderstanding.'

'A misunderstanding? How was it a misunderstanding?' cried Cameron, cursing herself for not getting into the car when she had the chance and trying to remember moves from the kickboxing class she had taken before she became pregnant with Emma. 'I asked you to stop repeatedly. I said no!'

'All I heard was please,' yelled back Wendum.

'Yeah, _PLEASE STOP_!'

Horror swept across Wendum face. 'But….but,' he stuttered, pointing lamely towards the hospital. 'I heard….' Bringing his arms up to his head, he turned in circles. 'Jesus, Joseph, and Mary what have I done?' Pausing in his rotations, Wendum looked at Cameron, his eyes pleading. 'Allison, please forgive me. I am an idiot.' Without thinking, Wendum took a step towards her. Cameron instantly backed away; making certain this time, there was nothing he could pin her to.

Wendum halted his face flustered, his eyes wild. 'No, no, no, no….it's alright. I just want to say I am sorry. Incredibly, unbelievably sorry. Lord, am I sorry.'

Cameron, uncertain what to say or do, backed slowly to the car and opened the door, slipping in side. Just as she was about to close the door, Wendum called out to her.

'Allison,' His voice was high and emotional.

Cameron as she slammed shut the door, making certain to lock it, and quickly starting the car. As she pulled away, Wendum sat down in the middle of the parking garage placing his head in his hands.

"_It is this, it is this that oppresses my soul,_

_When I think of my uncle's last words:_

_And my heart is like nothing so much as a bowl_

_Brimming over with quivering curds!"_

_The Hunting of the Snark, _by Lewis Carroll


	8. Chapter 8

These characters are not mine, in any shape, form or kind,

I have no right for what I do, in attempts to entertain you,

* * *

"_I engage with the Snark –every night after dark—_

_In a dreamy delirious fight:_

_I serve it with greens in those shadowy scenes,_

_And I use it for striking a light:_

_But if ever I meet with a Boojum, that day,_

_In a moment (of this I am sure),_

_I shall softly and suddenly vanish away—_

_And the notion I cannot endure!"_

_The Hunting of the Snark, _by Lewis Carroll

House looked at the clock. 'Eleven,' he mumbled to himself, taking another drink of his glass of scotch. He grimaced as he picked up the bottle and discovered it was half gone. It had been sometime since he had found solace in a bottle. Since Cameron, and since the birth of his child, House looked forward to every moment of his life. Both his drinking and his Vicodin intake had been extremely reduced.

Through the haze of drunken stupor, House heard a noise and prayed his daughter hadn't chosen this night, of all nights, to escape from her crib. Since her birth, he had been very careful that Emma had never seen him wasted. Staggering now towards her room, it occurred to House he hadn't actually been wasted since her birth. 'What have they done to me?' he asked himself aloud, peering through the half open door to the crib. House could see his daughter had turned over, knocking off her blanket. Trying to move quietly, he crossed to the crib and pulled the blanket back into place, careful not to wake the sleeping baby. Satisfied, she was sleeping peacefully; House checked the baby monitor and staggered towards his own bedroom. 'Emma, Mommy will kill me if I pass out.' House snorted quietly.

Making it across the hallway, House let his cane drop the moment he crossed the threshold of his and Cameron's bedroom. With faltering steps, he headed towards the bed falling on it face first. As the room began to revolve around him, House turned onto his back, kicking off his shoes. 'Cameron where are you?' he asked the ceiling. Not receiving an answer, he struggled into a sitting position and attempted to unbutton his shirt. Deciding the effort was futile, House finally managed to pull both his shirt and tee-shirt over his head on his forth attempt. Falling back onto the bed, House was uncertain if he had blacked out or not, as he became aware someone had entered the room.

Struggling up onto his elbow, House watched as his wife entered their bedroom. 'What's wrong?' he asked. Even through the drunken and drugged out haze in his mind, he could tell there was something serious happening with Cameron. As she entered, Cameron had dropped her coat on the floor, and in one swift move divested herself of her blouse and slacks. Without saying a word, she crawled on to the bed, and on to House.

Reaching up, House took his wife's head between his hands, running his fingers into her hair. He could tell she had been crying. 'What's wrong?' he asked again, the look in her eyes frightening him, sobering his thoughts.

'Greg,' breathed Cameron as she pressed her body against him, her mouth seeking his.

As their lips connected, their mouths opened allowing their tongues to explode into the other's mouth. The kiss was intense and furious, becoming harder and fierier at every moment. When at last they ran out of oxygen, Cameron pulled back gasping. Reaching for House's pants, she yanked loose the belt and pulled at the fastening of the jeans with such intensity; it broke and flew across the room. Trying to help, House raised his legs allowing Cameron to slip off his jeans and boxers, her fingernails scrapping down his thighs as she did so.

Reaching up, House grabbed Cameron, pulling her back to him. Again his mouth again found hers, his tongue exploring the depths of her mouth. With one swift move of his fingers, Greg unfastened Allison's bra revealing her breast. Placing his hand on her stomach, he slowly ran his fingers over her body, smiling against her lips as he felt her breast swell with his touch. Dropping his head, House let his mouth and tongue begin to explore his wife's body. He could feel her hands in his hair guiding him, encouraging him. Working his way down her body, he spent several minutes teasing and sucking at her breast, before moving down to her stomach and thighs. Finally, unable to control her need for him any long, Cameron guided House's mouth back to her own; again kissing him deeply; her tongue fighting a war with his.

As Cameron ran her hands over his body, House pulled away from the kiss and reached to remove her panties. This he did slowly, kneeling between her legs, leaving delicate, gentle kisses in his wake. Cameron moaned loudly as he flung her panties to floor and allowed his hands to run up her body, exploring her. Unable to stand the passion any longer Cameron reached for House, pulling her husband to her.

At first the rhythm of their combined bodies was soft and gentle as their hands groped and their mouths explored the other's body. Cameron tilted back her head, arching her body against him. Then, as the intensity of the moment, increased House could feel a change in Cameron. '_Greg_,' she breathed heavily in his ear as she wrapped her legs around his, her hunger for him increasing, '_harder.'_

Obeying her command, House increased his pace, his breath coming quicker as his passion increased. '_Faster Greg,' _Cameron pleaded ashe buried his head into her shoulder. '_Harder, faster.' _Sweat covered their bodies as Cameron wrapped her arms tighter around House, guiding him, urging him on. '_Harder, Greg, harder'_ moaned Cameron loudly, _'please!'_

House felt as if the world was about to explode. With every thrust he made, Cameron was meeting her hips to his, '_please Greg, harder,' _she begged in his ear, making the intensity deeper and more electrifying between them. The loud cries of pleasure and the moans of urging, begging him on further only increased the experience. _'Faster Greg, harder.' _In some vague part of House's mind he thought he had never, in his life, had a sexual moment like this one, and if he lived through it, he would never have a moment like this again. _'Greg, PLEASE.' _

With his heart pounding, and his breath coming in short ragged gasp, House did not know how much longer he was going to last. Still Cameron clung to him, moaning in to his ear, '_please Greg please, harder, faster.' _He could feel her fingernail digging into his back, drawing blood so intently was she clinging to him, her need for him insatiable. Finally, when he could stand it no longer, the world finally did explode around him. House felt Cameron's entire body arch against him as they each let out loud screams of elation. House tried to catch himself as he fell back onto the bed, but couldn't. Panting, House lay, holding his wife to him as he waited for his heart to stop pounding. So intense had been strain on his mind and body, he found he was render incapable of coherent thought and his body refused to move. Cameron, gasping for breath, her heart feeling as it were about to beat through her ribs, ran a hand through House's sweat soaked hair.

'Greg?' gasped Cameron, her eyes unable to focus. Fingers fluttered on her arm and a low murmur sounded in the crook of her neck. Cameron could feel House's hot breath stinging her skin as he tried to regain control of his body. As both their breathing slowed to the point of ragged breaths, Cameron could feel House's body start to shake with light airy laughter.

'What the hell was that?' he breathed between gasp, his breath still short. 'You almost killed me.' Determining he had a little strength left, House gently disentangled himself from her grasp. 'What happened to 'touch me and I'll divorce you?' he asked.

When she didn't respond, he lifted himself onto his elbow, looked at his wife and panicked.

'Cameron?' cried House, instantly on his knees running his hands and eyes across her body. 'God, what's wrong? Where did I hurt you?' Before he knew he had done it, House had grabbed Cameron by the shoulders and was shaking her. 'Allison!' he yelled.

'Greg quit,' snapped Cameron batting away his hands and arms. 'It's not me, it's you.'

House looked at her in confusion, his anxiety not abating, 'What?'

Cameron let go of her husband and fell back into the pillows, 'And you're the one who is famous. The blood is yours Greg, not mine. Calm down.'

House blinked at her.

'I hurt you,' assured Cameron, 'I ripped your back apart. You are the one bleeding.'

Slowly realization came into his face. 'Are you certain, I didn't hurt you?' he asked cautiously.

'No,' answered Cameron honestly.

'The baby?'

'I think its fine….I hope its fine'

Laying down, House pulled Cameron close to him. 'What's going on,' he whispered into her ear, as he gently pushed strands of damp hair from her face. His lungs were still burning.

For a long time Cameron laid there, nestled against him. As much as he wanted to, House didn't dare fall asleep. Something had happened, and he had to wait until Cameron was willing to tell him. If there was one thing in the world which peek House's curiosity, it was an anomaly, and this was one. When the tears came, House still didn't speak, he just held his wife tighter. As Cameron's raging sobs finally started to abate, he at last asked again.

'Allison, what happened?'

'I,' Cameron swallowed hard, she found the words were hard to say. Knowing what her husband's reaction was going to be made the words harder. She wanted to look at him when she told him, but found she couldn't.

'Greg, I' again she paused, and then taking a deep breath. 'I was attacked.'

Cameron felt House's entire body stiffen. Letting her go, he raised himself, placing his arms on either side of her body so he could look down into her face. 'You were what?' he asked his face and voice unreadable.

'I was attacked' Cameron quietly answered, not wanting to meet his eyes.

For several second he stared at her, before uttering his next question. Cameron could tell House was not taking the news well. His body had grown taut and he kept clenching and unclenching his jaw. 'Allison,' he voice had grown extremely quiet, 'do you know who it was?'

Rolling away from him, Cameron nodded as she reached for a pillow, hugging it to her. 'It was Wendum.'

Sitting up, House scooted to the edge of the bed and reached for his pants. There was a look of death set on his face and in his eyes as he pulled them on.

'Greg.' Cameron cursed to herself as she rolled off the bed, 'what are you doing?' Grabbing his tee-shirt she pulled it on, before he could reach for it.

Giving her a look, House snatched his button-up from the floor and pulled it over his head as he reached for his shoes.

'Greg?' Cameron asked again, fear flowing through her. When he didn't answer, Cameron snatched his cane from the floor and held it behind her.

House rose and stood in front of his wife, his eyes were blazing. 'Give me my cane Cameron.'

'No.'

'Allison,' demanded House

'You'll wake the baby Greg, stop yelling.' Cameron took a step back from him, cane firmly in hand.

'Wake the baby, after what she just slept through? _Please._'

Cameron looked at her husband, her voice stern when she spoke. 'You are not leaving this house.'

House stood and looked at his wife, their eyes meeting. 'Are you trying to defend him?'

'No,' declared Cameron. 'I'm trying to keep you from doing something stupid.'

For several more seconds they stood glaring each, then, turning on his good leg, House limped towards the bedroom door. 'Keep the damn thing; I don't need it with the bike.'

Cameron knew there was no way to stop him. Grabbing the telephone, she quickly began to dial.


	9. Chapter 9

From class to class, they hound me,

Through walls of glass, they have found me.

No matter where I go, they seem to know

Where I can be found, throughout the college grounds

New chapters they beg and while clinging to my leg

In my cave they stray, but I must send them away

Disgruntled they shuffle, their cries I must muffle

Yet their numbers grow, more I'm afraid must know

Of the tale I compose, while unable to capture repose

Swear say they, with looks of dismay

Me they hate, but I don't take their bait.

The tale they want told, so their threats are bold.

So now I continue, with my lyric venue

These characters are not mine, in any shape form or kind

They are just used as the muse of an unstable mind.

_

* * *

_

_The Bellman looked uffish, and wrinkled his brow._

"_If only you'd spoken before!_

_It's excessively awkward to mention it now,_

_With the Snark, so to speak, at the door"_

The more he thought, the angrier he became. The effects of alcohol and Vicodin hung in his mind and combined themselves with sexual euphoria and rage driven adrenaline. _'I was attacked.' _He knew he was not thinking clearly. He knew his reactions were sluggish and thwarted. _'It was Wendum.'_ He even knew he was acting with a cave man's mentality, _'I was attacked,' _but he didn't care. The image of his young wife turning away, unable to meet his eyes hung before him, _'I was attacked' _and her desperate need for reassurance in the form of raw, brutal sex confused him_, 'please, Greg, PLEASE!'_

It was beginning to snow, and House's body ached and throbbed in pain. _'I was attacked.' _His mind whirled as unknown feelings and sensations tugged at his heart, _'Greg, please,' _bringing with them images he was not certain he wanted to examine._ 'It was Wendum.'_ Twisting his wrist, House clicked a gear, raising the speed of the motorcycle. _'Faster Greg, faster.' _Why had her need for him been so desperate? '_Harder!' _Why had she waited so long to tell him? _Faster! _What had that bastard Wendum done to make her react as she had?_ 'Greg, PLEASE!'_

The icy snow stung as the wind numbed his hands and body, making it difficult to move. _'I was attacked.' _Even without the numbing wetness,his shirt had clung to his back; held in place with the blood drawn from Cameron's desperation. _'Greg,'_ He had forgotten to put on his jacket. _'I was attacked.' _He had just grabbed the helmet, slipped it on, and left; not certain where he was going.

House only knew one thing. _'It was Wendum.'_ He had to find Wendum. There was honor at stake, '_Harder!' _There was a wife, '_Faster!' _a daughter, '_Harder!' _a new baby '_Faster!' _, and most importantly, '_Harder!' _there was a life. His life. _'please, Greg, PLEASE!'_ A life he thought he would never have the opportunity to have. _'I was attacked.' _A life he found he desperately wanted. _'Greg' _A life he was willing to fight for. _'It was Wendum.'_ House opened the bike to full throttle, trying to outrun the images colliding in his mind.

* * *

"_You may charge me with murder – or want of sense—_

_(We are all of us weak at times):_

_But the slightest approach to a false pretense_

_Was never among my crimes!"_

Wendum was confused. Never in his life had he acted in such a manner and the question of _why_ he had tonight hung in the air around him. For it, Wendum did not have an answer, he just kept thinking of Cameron. The way she tilted her head and the sparkle in her eyes lingered in his in imagination, conjuring countless of scenarios. He had acted too soon, he knew that now. He should have waited and have given her more time, after all had she not been openly flirting with him in the restaurant?

For some time after Cameron had driven away Wendum had walked, uncertain where to go or what to do. When snow began to blow, swirling around him, he was barely aware of it. He did not feel the cold. It was held at bay by an overwhelming sense of self-loathing which was threatening to creep into his psyche. She was interested he kept telling himself. He had just acted too soon. Taking a deep breath, Wendum let it out slowly, watching it mist in the night air. He needed a plan. After all, there was soon to be the manic husband to deal with.

Looking up, Wendum discovered he had trudged passed the small apartment the hospital had provided for him into a section which was obviously the students' domain. Loud burst of laugher and the sounds of conversation could be heard from the bars and eateries laid out before him. Hunching himself in his coat, he wondered to the closest bar. He needed a drink. Entering, sound assaulted his ears and his eyes began to burn from the haze of smoke. The smell of stale beer was repugnant to his nostrils, but he did not leave. Crossing to the bar, Wendum found an open stool and ordered a drink. He knew House would find him eventually; it was only a matter of time. At least here, he had some time to think and consider his best course of action. No one was going to find him tonight.

Wendum was on his fourth drink when out of some dark reaches of his mind, something he had once read fluttered into his thoughts. '_Upon the ground they lay, the bones and skulls of men, whose life had gone astray.'_ Why he had thought of it Wendum didn't know, but somehow, he thought it was vaguely appropriate. The only question was, whose life was going to go astray, his or House's? Glancing along the stools at the bar, Wendum let his eyes settle on young woman with auburn hair who was in deep conversation with young Asian woman. Rising from the stool, he made his way over to them and cleared his throat politely.

'Excuse me?'

The two women looked up from their conversation and Wendum smiled sweetly. 'I apologize for interrupting, but aren't you Heidi Marcus?'

The auburn haired lady looked at Wendum with wary suspicion. 'Maybe, why do you ask?'

'I was in attendance of the lecture today and noticed you. Igs are complicated, but I thought you gave excellent answers.'

'Thank you,' smiled Heidi, giving her friend a side-long glance of amusement before turning back to Wendum. 'And you are?'

'Dr. Albert Culum Wendum, your new lecturer.' Wendum held out his hand to Heidi, who shook it with a smirk on her face, before he turned to her friend and raised an eyebrow in query of introduction.

'Melissa Chin,' grinned the girl taking Wendum's hand.

'Absolutely lovely,' mumbled Wendum letting his eyes scan over the two girls. Tilting his head to one side, he gave them a considered look before stating. 'I would be honored if would allow me to purchase you a drink?'

'Sure,' giggled Melissa nudging Heidi to scoot down a seat to allow Wendum to sit between them.

* * *

'_Tis a pitiful tale," said the Bellman, whose face_

_Had grown longer at every word:_

"_But, now that you've stated the whole of your case,_

_More debate would be simply absurd."_

Cameron knew there was no way she could have stopped House. In many ways, she had not wanted to, even though she knew she should have. She had grabbed the telephone, and had quickly begun to dial, but then, as the phone had started to ring on the other end, she replaced the receiver.

Cameron needed to act, she knew that, but she also needed a moment to think. House could do some amazingly asinine things when he put his mind to it, she knew that better than anyone, but she also knew it took creativity to stop him. Indecision hung around her, try as she may, Cameron could not collect her thoughts. Clumsily, she grabbed clothing from the bureau, slipping them on as she considered grabbing Emma and rushing to the hospital. Certainly that would be the first place her husband would go?

When her own phone began to ring, misguided relieve washed over Cameron_. Greg came to his senses_ she told herself, but knew it was extremely unlikely. Glancing at the Caller ID, Cameron cursed, she had forgotten Caller ID. Now as the phone rang she knew who it was, she knew what they wanted, but she still did not know what to say. Picking up the receiver, Cameron was about to speak when a sudden pain swept through her body. Dropping the phone, Cameron ran to the bathroom, gagging.

* * *

"_To seek it with thimbles, to seek it with care;_

_To pursue it with forks and hope;_

_To threaten its life with a rail-way-share;_

_To charm it with smiles and soap!"_

House did not see the ice so lost was he in thought. Only when he felt the rear wheel of the motorcycle begin to move outside of his control did he know he was in trouble. Ironically, as the bike slide sideways and the rough payment met with his leg, back, and side, did House realize he was about to crash into the side of the hospital. Letting go, he felt himself tumble as the bike continued on its path. There was a resounding clang as it hit the flagpole, reversing its spin, and slamming into the shrubby along the walkway. Lying on his back, House stared up at the snow swept sky. He knew he was bleeding, but other than some massive bruising, he didn't think anything was broken. As people approached, House tried to sit up, but sudden pain swept through his body. Falling back on the icy ground, he thought of Cameron as darkness enclosed him.

**

* * *

**

**Author's note**

Sorry this took so long, and I know it is a bit odd, but I needed a transition to the next part of the story. As usual, I am curious to see what you think. I also would like to say thank you for EternalConfusion and others who sent me well wishes during my bout with extreme illness and gave me some interesting feed back on my questions. Thank you again, as always, it is appreciated. CBB

By the way, I almost forgot...yes, the diddies at the beginning are just for fun and Lewis Caroll wrote Hunting of the Snark, which I also have no right to use, but do.


	10. Chapter 10

For this lyric interlude, we shall have verisimilitude

Distractions put us in a passion

In Skin Deep he was a bit of a creep

They are making it hard for we bards

For the story to tell, the show I must dispel

I must concentrate for the stories sake.

As it has been on hold, while I had the vicious cold

Some are beginning to disparage there will be a miscarriage.

Will Wendum the philanderer make Cameron an adulterer?

What will House do to the louse?

What is in store and will there be gore?

I cannot at this time say, but only relay.

The answers will be found in the chapters.

So without further construe, the disclaimer I give you.

These characters are not mine, in shape, form, or kind

So enjoy the tale, there will be more without fail.

* * *

"_For the Snark's a peculiar creature, that won't_

_Be caught in a commonplace way._

_Do all that you know, and try all that you don't:_

_Not a chance must be wasted to-day!"_

Cameron rested her head on her arm, closing her eyes and breathing heavily. The side of the toilet basin felt cool against her side as she gulped in air, trying to keep the nausea at bay. Her throat hurt and her head was pounding from the force of her vomiting. She was weak, but Cameron knew she needed to get up. She needed to check to see if she had lost the baby. Opening her eyes, Cameron stared at the toilet water; marshalling her strength as her other arm wrapped itself around her waist subconsciously reassuring the baby.

Carefully, Cameron raised her head and pushed herself into a sitting position, leaning her back against the clothes hamper for support. The pain had subsided to a dull, throbbing ache, but it was still there, worrying her. As a rule, Cameron had long since given up in her belief in the existence of God, or of any deity capable of benign benevolence; now however, Cameron found she was praying as she allowed her hand to push inside her underwear. Running her hand between her legs, she closed her eyes tightly as she withdrew her hand and held it before her. She was determined she was not going to panic if she opened her eyes and found blood.

Taking a deep breath, and uttering every prayer she could think of, Cameron forced herself to look at her hand. It was fine. There was no blood. Tears of joy sprang to her eyes, even though as a doctor, Cameron knew she and the baby were far from being completely safe as of yet. She needed to go to the hospital; most miscarriages occurred in the first trimester of pregnancy, and at her age it, was possible. The pain, thought Cameron, could be the precursor; she needed a pelvic, her progesterone levels checked, and maybe even a CBC. 'And,' thought Cameron, 'I need my husband.'

Bracing herself against the hamper, Cameron tried to stand, but gravity worked against her as the room began to spin. Her head felt as if it were about to burst. Coercing herself not to be ill, Cameron rolled on to her knees and was preparing to stand when there came sudden hammering on her front door. Baffled, Cameron listened as the knocker became more persistent in their demands for entry. For an instant, Cameron thought of Wendum and the possibility he had discovered where she lived. She didn't think she had told him the exact location of her home, but she remembered him asking if she lived near the hospital. Cameron had replied she and House had purchased a home in a nearby 'child friendly' neighborhood when she had become pregnant with Emma, but she was certain she had not told Wendum where.

The pounding on the door suddenly halted, but was quickly replaced with another sound. The knocker had found the doorbell and was repeatedly banging on it, sending loud chimes throughout the house. Emma, awaken from the pounding on the door and the banging of the chimes, joined the bell with wails of fright. Then as quickly as it had started, the chimes ended, sending a wave of relief through Cameron. Only Emma's cries could now be heard.

Still weak, Cameron's mother instincts kicked in, helping to her cross her bedroom to her daughter's room. Using the doorframe as support, Cameron leaned against it gathering strength before approaching Emma. If she there were any possibilities at all her pain was the warning signs of a miscarriage, she could not risk lifting Emma from her crib. Crossing to the crib, Cameron reached out to her daughter, running her hand through the child's hair.

'Mommy's here honey,' smoothed Cameron. Emma's piercing screams were like lightening strikes to her migraine.

'Daddy!' screamed Emma, her face scrunched up in fright and indigestion. 'DDDAAADDDDYYYYY!'

'Emma' said Cameron more sternly than she had indented, 'stop screaming.'

'Daddy' wailed the child, tears covering her face as she held out her arms for Cameron to lift her.

Cameron's heart sank. 'I can't honey. Mommy can't. You've got to stay in your crib.'

The look of rejection on Emma's face almost made Cameron reconsider what a risk lifting Emma's weight would be, but she knew she could not risk it; just as she knew she was going to have to leave Emma screaming while she called for an ambulance. She should have already called; the risks she was taking to herself and the baby were increasing with each fleeting second she waited. Walking around was a complete act of stupidity, Cameron knew that, but her gut reaction was to consider Emma first.

'DDDDAAAADDYYYY,' again came Emma's wail as a shadow blocked out the light which had been spilling into the room.

'Greg,' uttered Cameron she turned on her heel to face the figure in the doorframe.

'No,' replied the man as he stepped into the room and switched on the light, 'Uncle Jimmy. What's going on?'

'Wilson,' breathed Cameron, 'thank God.' Tears flooded her eyes as her tongue tripped over her next words. 'Greg went after Wendum, and I can't lift Emma because I think I might be starting to miscarry, but someone was at the door, and I was going to call for an ambulance, but Emma started crying and I had to know she was alright, but I'm afraid to pick her up.'

'Okay, okay,' Wilson held up his hands for her to stop as he moved passed Cameron to the crib and lifted Emma into his arms. 'I have no idea what you just said over the fog horn here.'

Emma, finally released from her crib prison, buried her cherub head in Wilson's shoulder sniffing loudly.

Cameron, unsteady on her feet, gingerly sat down in the nursery rocking chair. Now her adrenaline rush was beginning to subside, the pain in her head was becoming overwhelming, making her forget the cramping pains in her abdomen.

'Are you alright?' asked Wilson. Cameron was extremely pale, and the look in her eyes was lifeless with pain.

'Call an ambulance.'

'Why? What's wrong?' asked Wilson wondering if Emma would return to her crib. She had put her thumb in her mouth and was lying heavily on his shoulder.

'I think I am about to have a miscarriage.'

'You're pregnant?'

'Yes! Call an ambulance! _NOW,_'' yelped Cameron setting back in the chair.

Without hesitation, Wilson crossed to the bedroom, set Emma down on the bed willing her not to cry, and picked the phone receiver from the floor where Cameron had previous dropped it. Quickly dialing 911, he gave the address, and then checked Emma before returning to her mother.

'What are your symptoms?' Wilson knelt before the rocker, speaking quietly and easily.

'My abdomen hurts, I was sick, and my head is going to explode,' a ghost of a smile flickered on Cameron's face. 'No blood, so there still may be time.'

'Where's Greg?'

'He went after Wendum,' was all Cameron said, as her eyes fell on the little figure with its thumb in its mouth reaching for its rabbit Wopples through the bars of the crib.

Already the sound of sirens could be heard. One of the advantages of being a doctor, who lived near the hospital, thought Wilson as he retrieved Wopples for Emma and turned back to Cameron.

'Don't move. I'll let them in and then later you can tell me what this is all about.' He turned to Emma, 'Can you take care of Mommy for me?' he asked gently.

'No,' nodded Emma with her thumb still in her mouth.

'Good,' getting up, Wilson raced to the door to collect the paramedics and lead them back to Cameron. As the EMTs placed her on a gurney and ushered her into the ambulance, Wilson continually reassured Cameron everything would be fine. Watching with Emma in his arms as the ambulance pulled away, Wilson tried to reassure himself everything would be fine, even if he did not have the slightest notion what was happening.

'Emma,' said Wilson, turning his attention to the child in his arms. 'Let's get your diaper bag and car seat, then, on our way to the hospital, let's page Daddy and see what the hell is going on.'

_

* * *

_

_Then the Banker endorsed a blank check (which he crossed),_

_And changed his loose silver for notes._

_The Baker with care combed his whiskers and hair'_

_And shook the dust out of his coats._

_The Maker of Bonnets ferociously planned_

_A novel arrangement of bows;_

_While the Billiard-marker with quivering hand_

_Was chalking the tip of his nose._

The journey to the hospital was mercifully short and before she knew it, Cameron was in a examining room, feet planted firmly in stirrups. The on-call obstetrician, a young lady named Annabella Strewart was a second year fellow, and was known only in passing to Cameron, but her touch was light and her demeanor was reassuring. Finishing her exam, Annabella removed her gloves and lowered the stirrups before smiling at Cameron.

'As you know from the ultra sound, there is a strong fetal heart beat and from the look of the pelvic, the uterine wall looks fine. And, as soon as your CBC and progesterone test returns, I think we will be in the clear, but I want them before I give you a definitive answer. Either way, I want to hold you for observation.'

Cameron gave a huge sigh of relief as she realized she had been holding her breath. 'Thank God,' she mumbled to herself before turning her attention back to the obstetrician.

Annabella Stewart looked at Cameron and flushed in embarrassment. 'Dr. Cameron, I really don't know how to put this, but you and Dr. House are going to have to be much more careful. You have some pretty severe bruising, and although this time was a false alarm, if you continue to have rough sex, you may not be as lucky next time.'

'Do you think that is what happened?' asked Cameron sheepishly remembering the previous events with House.

'It didn't help, but it could also be stress related from the accident, which would also account for the migraine. It could be even be from trauma.' This time Annabella looked away before asking her next question, trepidation was in her voice. 'He didn't _do_ anything against your will did he?'

'Who?' asked Cameron as Wendum flew into her mind.

'Whomever,' replied Annabella seriously, 'I said Dr. House, but considering everything which has happened this evening, you may not have been with him.'

Cameron's eyes narrowed as she pulled herself into a sitting position. 'Considering what?' there was warning in her voice, 'I can assure you my husband is the only person I have slept with and yes, we did,' Cameron hesitated looking for the right words, 'become aggressive this evening, but no matter what you might have heard about Dr. House; I can assure you he didn't _do _anything I didn't ask him to do.'

Annabella pressed her lips together, and nodded at Cameron. 'Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. It's just, first there was the accident and then Dr. Wilson brought you in. I immediately thought you were reacting to the stress until I saw the extent of your bruising.' She hesitated, 'I had to ask, you do understand.'

'No, I don't,' said Cameron as something clicked in her mind. She looked at Annabella questioningly, 'What accident?'

Annabella looked surprised as she stared at Cameron. 'Don't you know? Dr. House crashed his motorcycle in to the side entrance about an hour ago. He's three doors down with Drs. Cuddy and Parkes.'

* * *


	11. Chapter 11

I'm feeling philosophic and a little misanthropic

Always a dangerous sign, but the effects are usually benign

Madness has been said to come from depression, and not aggression.

Great writers, one and most all, had mental problems which appalled

I question not my sanity, but rather my incongruity.

I fear I may become a bore and my stories you will abhor.

I give you twist and turns, enough to make your stomachs churn

I give you the good with the bad, but not to make you sad

The story has become rather bold, it has taken me under its control

I sit and begin to write, words which give me a fright

But on this journey I have embarked, with you and the Snark

So before the day is through, the disclaimer I must give you.

These characters are not mine, in any shape, form, or kind

I only use them to entertain, without, hopefully, too much disdain.

* * *

"_Be a man!" said the Bellman in wrath, as he heard_

_The Butcher beginning to sob._

"_Should we meet we a Jubjub, that desperate bird,_

_We shall need all our strength for the job!"_

_(The Hunting of the Snark _by Lewis Carrol

'You absolute idiot,' Lisa Cuddy looked at the man lying on his stomach on the emergency room table. He was nude except the sheet across his buttocks. 'When you and Cameron finally got together, I was actually relieved. I thought now House would be less suicidal, he had something to live for. When Emma was born I did a jig, while thinking halleluiah, now he will definitely act better.' The man yelped loudly as Cuddy used tweezers to lift a large piece of gravel which had been embedded in his back and add it to her growing pile debris. 'Obviously, I was wrong.'

'Anesthesia would be nice here,' groaned House through gritted teeth as Cuddy took perverse pleasure in digging out a piece of grit and dropping it with a clunk into a metal pan.

"Not on your life.' Dipping a cotton swap in disinfect, Cuddy wiped away blood from the open wound, smirking as House's body lurched from the sting.

'For God's sakes blow on it or something,' whined House loudly.

Cuddy smiled seductively and stooped so she could look House directly in the eye. 'Do you know what your mandatory tox screen told me? Not only where you high, but you were drunk and high. And,' she raised an eyebrow for emphasis, 'if you can ride a motorcycle without a coat in a snow storm, destroy my flag pole and shrubbery, and get me out of bed at three in the morning, you don't need anyone _to blow on it_. You have a pretty young wife who can do _that_ when I'm done with you.' Puckering her lips, Cuddy blew House a mock kiss as she returned to her task. 'Now shut up, so I can personally dig my parking lot out of you piece by piece.'

Gritting his teeth, House gave Cuddy an evil glance, yelping as she sought another pebbles. 'Could you try a little gentleness at least?'

'Only when you tell me what the hell you thought you were doing.'

'It's private,' mumbled House swearing under his breath. Clank, another pebble hit the dish. 'Can I recommend a nice saline wash rather than taking them out one by one?'

'Nope,' Cuddy started to reply, but stopped as the door opened and Jack Parkes, the intern on duty, entered the room.

'Dr. Cuddy?' The look on Parkes face was solemn, 'May I speak with you a moment?'

'What is it?' asked Cuddy, 'Did Cameron say to leave this idiot here and she would collect him in the morning?'

'Uh, not quite,' hesitated Parkes. House tried to turn his head to look at the intern, but found it too painful. Cuddy sensing something was serious wrong laid down her tweezers and turned on him.

'What did she say?'

Shifting his weight from foot to foot, the intern glanced at House, who was pushing himself up on his elbows, pained expression mixed with questioning on his face, and to Cuddy. 'The phone was off the hook when I called, so I tried her pager and no one answered. But…' Parkes stopped and looked as if he wanted to bolt from the room.

'But what?' asked House apprehensively as he forced himself up to a sitting position and gingerly pulled the sheet more securely around his waist.

'Spit it out,' snapped Cuddy.

'Well, I gave it a while, then I forgot, so I tried to call again, but Annabella, I mean Dr. Stewart, just told me Dr. Cameron has been in examining room ten for the last forty minutes.'

House and Cuddy looked at each other before turning back to Parkes. 'And?' said each simultaneously.

'She thought she had a miscarriage,' mumbled Parkes looking at his shoes. 'But, but, but,' he stammered quickly as House moved to climb off the table and a look of shock, sadness, and fury crossed Cuddy's face, 'she didn't, or at least we don't think she did.'

Both House and Cuddy began yelling at him at the same time, 'Why the hell didn't anyone tell me when she came in?' yelled House as Cuddy demanded to know 'Why am I just now being informed of this?' Holding up his hands in surrender, Parkes backed towards the door while shushing his two superiors. 'I'll just go check on her,' he declared before dashing out of the room.

As the door swung closed, House gathered the sheet tightly around his waist with one hand, and tentatively lowered a foot to the floor.

'What are you doing?' demanded Cuddy.

'Going to see about my wife,' House gently applied pressure to his leg before wincing in pain, 'and my daughter, get that moron back in here and find out where my child is.'

'You can't go out there.'

'Why not?' demanded House.

'Uh,' Cuddy held out a hand indicating House's leg and back, both of which were extremely bruised and covered in scraps and gashes from his accident. 'No cane, no wheelchair, no clothes. You're not running around here naked, and you can't walk till I sew up your good leg you bashed.' Crossing to the door, Cuddy turned to House, 'don't move.' Opening the door, she disappeared into the corridor only to immediately return with a wheelchair and a robe.

'This is going to hurt like hell,' said Cuddy holding out the robe for House to slip it on, 'but maybe Cameron doesn't know what you did.' With the robe in place, Cuddy helped him off the table and into the wheelchair. 'Can you lean back into the chair; blood is already coming through the robe.'

'Don't worry about it,' breathed House through gritted teeth, 'she'll just think I'm still bleeding from her nails.'

'I thought some of those scraps looked a bit odd,' mumbled Cuddy under her breath as she tucked the flaps of the sheet House still had wrapped around his over his legs to hide his scraps. Satisfying herself House was settled and looking as well as he could under the circumstances, Cuddy pushed him out the door. 'We will check on Cameron, and then I will numb your leg and back, wash out the pavement, and stitch you up.'

'Thank you,' said House, which was followed immediately by the sound of Emma's call of 'Daddy,' as she toddled from behind the nursing station at the sound of her father's voice. Cheryl, the night nurse, instantly scooped up the child and held her as she stooped next to House and Cuddy.

'Hi sweetie,' smiled Cuddy. While House smiled at his daughter and took her hand in his.

'Emma,' he said gently in a low voice, 'are you being a good girl?'

Emma grinned and tried to wiggle her way from the nursing grasp to climb into her father's lap.

'No, honey, you need to stay with the nurse for a few more minutes,' House looked up at Cheryl. 'Do you mind?'

Slightly taken aback that House was politely asking her for help, Cheryl smiled reassuring, 'We're fine. Besides, Dr. Stewart says we can bring her in to see her mother in a few minutes now the exam is over and the test results are back.'

House nodded as Cheryl stood with Emma who was still squirming to be let loose. Letting go of his daughter's hand, House smiled brightly at her, 'Daddy will be right back, OK?' He could tell Emma was getting ready to scream. 'You play here for two more minutes, then the nice nurse will bring you in to Mommy.'

Cuddy seeing the child's face start to scrunch up, quickly pushed House into Cameron's room.

As the door opened and she saw who was entering her room, Cameron could not help but to start to cry. 'Greg.'

Cuddy wheeled House next to the bed where he took his wife's hand in his own.

'How are you?' he asked. There was tenderness in his voice Cuddy had never heard before. Feeling extremely uncomfortable, she quickly excused herself from the room.

House squeezed his wife's hand as she began to sob deeply. He wanted to hold her, but he knew at current moment that was out of the question. Between his wounds and the fetal monitors Cameron was hooked to, they were each slightly immoveable.

'Greg, they said you were in an accident.'

'I wrecked the bike,' said House gently as he stroked Cameron's arm, 'but as you can see, I'm going to be fine.' He hesitated, unsure what next to say. Raising Cameron's hand to his lips, House gently kissed it before lowering it back to the bed. With his thumb he traced small circles where his lips had been. He found he could not look at his wife. 'I…I'm sorry.' There were depths of emotion in the simple statement. 'If I had known…this would happen,' House felt a great lump rise in his throat as tears threatened to come to his eyes; swallowing, he tried to continue. 'I would never have…' He couldn't finish the sentence.

'Greg,' wailed Cameron between sobs, 'I didn't loose the baby. It's alright. They are just being careful, I'm still pregnant.' Cameron wanted desperately to hold him. House looked up at her, his eyes blazing. Cameron could see he was on the verge of tears.

'Are you sure?' He wanted so much to believe most of the evening was just a horrible dream.

Cameron nodded, unable to speak.

'What happened?' asked House, trying to pull himself under control.

'I could ask you the same thing,' smiled Cameron, sniffing loudly. 'You look horrible and I know I didn't do that.' She nodded towards the robe which had come open revealing a large bruise on his shoulder.

'Ice,' said House simply, 'You?'

'Panic attack.'

House nodded. For several moments each was silent. Cameron's sniffs lessened to minor snuffles and House sat, staring at the railing on the bed. Uneasiness grew in the room. Cameron loudly cleared her throat, causing House to jump.

'We need to…talk,' Cameron said quietly.

Letting go of her hand, House rested his arms on the wheels of the chair. 'I don't want to.'

'We need to.'

'Why?' The question sounded like a gun going off in the room, 'Why do we _need_ to?' House rolled the chair backwards, away from the bed, ignoring the blasts of pain it send to his back.

'Greg,' Cameron started to say, but House cut her off. His words were spoken slowly and heavily accented so she could not miss his point. 'I don't want to know you are attracted to him. I don't want to know it started out innocently enough, a little flirting, then a little more over dinner, and then what, a kiss good night and it got out of hand?' Cameron sat staring at him wide-eyed. 'I don't want to know you said no, but he was persistent, even a little forceful, forceful enough he frightened you.' House glanced at Cameron. He knew he was hitting some raw nerves. 'We don't need to talk, because there is too much I already know.'

Cameron opened her mouth to speak, to tell him he was wrong, but again House cut her off. 'Do you want to know what I know?' He did not wait for her to answer. 'I know you were attracted to him the moment the two of you met; I saw it in your eyes. I know a part of you was enjoying where the evening was going, I heard _that_ in your voice when you called. I know he held you and with force, your wrists are bruised and I could smell his cologne on you. I think he took you by surprise and came on way to strong. I also think when you said no, he got violent with you.' Cameron glanced at her wrists as House took a deep breath, his eyes searching her face, 'I know you didn't sleep with him, but…' Cameron looked at her husband, their eyes locking as his anger was replaced with a note of deep sadness. 'You didn't sleep with him,' his voice dropped to no more than a whisper, 'but you wanted to. In fact, you seriously thought about it.' With force, House tore his eyes away from hers.

Cameron sat stunned for several seconds, opening and closing her mouth shaking her head no, looking remarkably like a fish out of water. Finally she found her voice, 'That's not…It was…How?' she stammered.

'I know' said House quietly, 'because you wanted me to…you needed me to hurt you. The more you begged, to more I knew. People don't change Cameron; you still punish yourself for the most damnable things.'

'And you're still an ass,' replied Cameron, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

House nodded his head, a thin sad smile playing at the corners of his lips. 'An ass who loves you.' House rolled the chair back towards the bed.

'I love you too,' whispered Cameron holding out her hand to him. House took Cameron's hand and she squeezed it gently. 'You don't need to worry Greg, you really don't.'

House pressed his lips together in a half-hearted smile of acknowledgement just as the door opened and Cuddy entered the room, followed closely by Emma and Wilson.

'Right,' announced Cuddy to Cameron, 'Lets get you up to maternity for observation,' she turned to House, 'and you lets de-gravel. But first, I want to know what is going on.'

Dragging a stool between House and Cameron, Cuddy sat and crossed her legs, 'Let's hear it.'

Wilson nodding, sat Emma gently next to Cameron. 'I about had a heart attack when you called, then hung up without saying a word, then answered when I called back and dropped the phone. I could hear you puking so I rushed right over and you wouldn't answer the door.'

House and Cameron looked at each other, unspoken communication flowing between them. Cameron gave him a slight nod as Emma placed her thumb in her mouth and curled next to her mother.

'Wendum made a pass at Cameron and when she said no, he became violent.' House looked from Cuddy to Wilson; both their mouths were dropped open. 'Don't worry,' smiled House, 'I intend to speak with him about it.'

_They sought it with thimbles; they sought it with care;_

_They pursued it with forks and hope;_

_They threatened its life with a railway-share_

_They charmed it with smiles and soap._

**

* * *

**

**Author's note:**

Thank you for the reviews they are appreciated. I also tried not to leave you with too much of a cliffhanger this time, but then again…what will House say to Wendum? Also, I have right to be using Lewis Carroll's Hunting of the Snark.


	12. Chapter 12

The Merry ban are a riot, but also rather quiet.

They may moan and give the occasional groan

They may complain and sometimes be a pain

But very bright are these erudites.

Knowledge they seek for the benefit it reeks

Their homework is cruel (always as a rule)

It drives them mad which is rather sad

Pile upon pile, (the sight is quite vile)

But through it they plough, so to them I must bow

It is no meek feature considering their teacher

(A vile, horrid creature, I tell you reader)

But through it they persevere, and for it I hold them dear.

Now, let's end the accolades and have the disclaimer without delay

These characters are not mine, in any shape, form, or kind

Nor is _The Hunting of the Snark_, or any other literary remarks

_

* * *

_

_Then the Butcher contrived an ingenious plan_

_For making a separate sally;_

_And fixed on a spot unfrequented by man'_

_A dismal and desolate valley_

Wendum awoke in a confusion of arms and legs. His mouth was dry and felt as if something had crawled in it and died. Wiping sleep from his eyes, he surveyed the situation. The foot of a young Asian lady was under his arm and the head of a young blonde woman lay on his shoulder with her arm wrapped around his chest. Wendum blinked, focusing his vision as he glanced around the room. He had no idea where he was. Slowly trying to disentangle himself from the two co-eds, he slid off the bed and looked at the floor. A nude young man was sprawled half out, half under the side of the bed. As he searched frantically for his clothing, Wendum tried to remember how he had ended up in this position. He remembered going to the toilet, and being approached by a young man while he was using the urinal.

'Hey,' said the boy, he couldn't have been more than eighteen.

'Sorry,' mumbled Wendum, 'you're not my flavor.'

'Hey man, that's cool,' said the boy holding out a hand. In it he had a small bag containing four or five tablets. 'I thought you just might want to get a party rolling or something.'

He eyed the boy as he finished at the urinal and moved to wash his hands. The boy stood next to a stall watching him. 'How much?' Wendum asked as he turned to leave the room.

The boy grinned, 'include me and I'll give you a discount.'

Now, as he stooped to retrieve his pants and other clothing from the mound on the living room floor, Wendum cursed to himself. He checked his coat and found his wallet. Opening it, he sighed as he discovered his money and credit cards were still firmly in place. He needed to get back to his apartment, shower and change for the hospital. Plus, he had the entire Dr. Cameron issue he needed to deal with. Pulling on his clothes, he crawled around floor attempting to seek a missing sock, before finally dismissing it. Pulling the sock he had found off, he stuffed it in his coat pocket and quickly placed his shoes on his feet. Dressed, Wendum hurried from the apartment, hoping he was somewhere he could easily hail a taxi.

_

* * *

_

_Each thought he was thinking of nothing but "Snark"_

_And the glorious work of the day;_

_And each tried to pretend that he did not remark_

_That the other was going that way._

When Winslow arrived at his office, he instantly knew something was happening in the hospital. Every nursing station and corner held nurses and doctors whispering quietly and urgently to one another. 'Something is definitely up,' thought the old man as he took out his keys and entered his office. Unfortunately his usual source of gossip, a med-student named Quincy was no where to be seen and the other immunologists, Barlow and Bowman, were making their rounds.

Winslow sighed deeply as he rubbed his bald head. He was going to have to socialize with the nurses to find out the dirt, and he hated socializing with the nursing. Glancing at Cameron's office, Winslow made a mental note to give her a going over for being late for work. He also noticed Wendum's office was dark. 'Interesting,' he mumbled to himself, sitting down to read the morning emails and listen to the phone messages. Flipping on the computer, Winslow settled back in his chair as he logged on and reached for the files lying on his desk. As he flipped through the files, a frown grew longer and longer on his face. 'Cameron didn't check any of her patients last night,' Wendum said aloud to himself, 'how extraordinarily odd.'

Reaching for the phone, he poked him her number. The extension rang, but without answer. Tapping the disconnection, Winslow punched in the extension to diagnostics.

'Hello, diagnostics,' came an Austrian accent. Winslow racked his brain trying to remember which one of House's lackeys was Austrian, taking a guess he threw out a name which sounded vaguely right, 'Um, Dr. Foreman?'

'One sec,' the replied the man on the other end, to be quickly replaced with a deeper mid-western mixed with Californian ascent. 'Hello.'

'Dr. Foreman?'

'Yes?'

'This is Winslow in immunology.'

There was a pause, followed by a quick muffled conversation before the voice on the other end answered, 'Yes?'

Winslow rolled his eyes thinking House's lackeys were only capable of mono-syllabic communication. Taking a deep breath, he willed himself to have patience; he did not need his blood pressure to rise so early in the morning. 'I am looking for Dr. Cameron, she hasn't arrived this morning and I was thinking perhaps she might have confused the location of her employment.'

There was silence on the other end of the extension, making Winslow wonder if he had used too many words for the diagnostician. The voice on the other end of the line cleared its throat loudly before answering.

'Dr. Cameron was admitted last night. I'm surprised no one in your department informed you.' There was an edge in Foreman's voice which made Winslow grimace. Just because his department didn't jump in bed with each other and hang out together didn't mean they did not communicate, which was what he assumed the man was implying.

'Admitted? Why?' asked Winslow impatiently?

Foreman's reply was firm and final 'I think you should call Dr. Cuddy, Dr. Winslow.'

Seeing he was getting nowhere, Winslow quickly thanked Foreman and hung up the phone. Just as he was about the dial Cuddy, Quincy entered the department. Setting down the receiver, Winslow called out to the young man, beckoning him into his office.

'Yes?' asked Quincy vacillating if he were in trouble or not.

Winslow smiled brightly at the young medical student and motioned for him to sit down. Reluctantly complying, Quincy sat in the chair across from Winslow's desk, certain he had done something which was about to require a lengthy reprimand.

'So,' said Winslow once Quincy was settled, 'tell me what's going on?'

'Excuse me sir?'

Winslow was beginning to loose his patience. 'I have just been informed Dr. Cameron was admitted to the hospital as a patient.'

'And Dr. House,' interjected the med-student.

This took Winslow back. Raising an eyebrow he surveyed the medical student. 'Did they try to kill one another?' he asked quite seriously as he picked up a pen and started twirling it between his fingers.

Quincy squirmed in his chair; he liked Cameron. She had always been more than pleasant to him and always took time to answer any question he had presented her, unlike the man sitting across from him. Speaking about her to Winslow felt as if it were some form of betrayal. 'No sir,' he answered at last. 'Dr. Cameron is pregnant and they thought she had a miscarriage. Drs. Cuddy and Stewart admitted her for observation.'

'Great, just fucking great,' declared Winslow angrily. 'Pregnant! Do you have any idea how many hours of work she is going to miss, not to mention all of us having to deal with her running off to check on the children in the nursery?' Winslow said the last in a mocking tone.

Quincy winced, he did not like Winslow and his attitude toward the entire situation was making him angry. He eyed the pen still being twirled in Winslow's hand, hoping Winslow would manage to jab himself with it.

'Does she at least know who the father is?' asked Winslow disingenuously.

'Dr. House.' Quincy gave him a hostile look.

'Shit,' said Winslow rubbing his bald head. 'That means he'll be down here demanding I cut back her hours.' He hesitated a moment, thinking. 'Didn't you say he was admitted too?'

Quincy nodded. 'He crashed his motorcycle in to the side entrance last night, but they released him a couple of hours ago.' He wished he possessed telekinesis. If he had, thought Quincy, he would will Winslow's pen to fly into the air and jab the old man repeatedly in the eyes in a poetic oedipal manner.

'Too bad it didn't kill him,' Winslow smirked and laughed loudly which instantly brought Quincy to his feet. He knew he needed to leave the room before he said something evil to the old man.

'If you'll excuse me sir,' he mumbled under his breath as he headed for the door.

'Yeah, yeah, just one more thing,' called out Winslow finally dropping the pen on the desktop.

Quincy stopped and turned to his superior, inwardly cringing at every second he had to spend in his presence, 'Sir?'

'What's all the gossip about, House smashing himself up?'

Quincy shook his head, 'No sir, everyone is talking about Dr. Wendum.'

'Wendum, why?' queried Winslow curiously, his face surprised.

Stepping back into the room, Quincy gave Winslow a serious look thinking to himself, 'maybe this will burst your bubble you old fart,' before saying aloud. 'The rumor is he tried to rape Dr. Cameron and that is why is almost lost her baby. Everyone is also saying Dr. House wrecked his motorcycle because he was on his way here to kill Wendum.' Turning on his heel, Quincy left the office, as Winslow sat with his eyes wide and his mouth open. As he watched the med-student quickly exit, Winslow let out of slow whistle of disbelief.

Turning back to his computer, Winslow tapped at the keyboard, hesitated, and tapped again. Dismissing it entirely he began strumming his fingers on his desk as he thought about the situation before him. House would be on a rampage that he did not doubt, but in his opinion, House was always on one about something. What mattered, even if it meant dismissing what Wendum may have or have not done, House was looking for him. With rumors as they were in the hospital, it was hard to say tell what truth was and what was fiction. 'Best to see for myself,' mumbled Winslow to himself as he rose from the desk and grabbed his coat. Slipping glasses onto the end of his nose, he quickly jotted down the address of Wendum's apartment.

* * *

Author's Notes

The Hunting of the Snark was written by Lewis Carroll,

Don't worry people...I am working on what is going to happen to Wendum.And I promise, it will be soon or my Merry Ban is going to throttle me. Thanks for the reviews, (I can honestly admit they inspire me to write more.)...CBB


	13. Chapter 13

Housecat, I owe you an apology for my lack of geography

I am afraid I have lost face with your country I misplaced

It was not intentional to make Chase continental

My head should be smacked (which would please those of you in the Outback,)

In different locations were not our hovels, I would stand before you and grovel.

Because of my insult, a proofreader I shall consult

To prevent any future calamity with similar tragedies

Your forgiveness I now ask as I begin this task

So with head bowed, I appeal to the crowd

With this disclaimer, (which could not be lamer)

(One moment before I forget, another aspect I will regret

These characters are not mine, just some, part of the time

I borrow and use and unfortunately somewhat abuse

So please do not sue, if you do, I will come unglued.)

* * *

'_But the valley grew narrow and narrower still,_

_And the evening got darker and colder_

_Till (merely from nervousness, not from goodwill)_

_They marched along shoulder to shoulder._

'Hospital beds,' thought Cameron, 'where not meant for three people.' She was wedged on the narrow bed between her husband and her daughter, both of whom were sleeping soundly. The morning sunlight was shining brightly through her window, and, as the two figures accompanying her continued to dose, Cameron was able to reflect on the events of the evening.

Emma had stayed with her from the moment Wilson had deposited the child on the bed. She had merely placed her thumb in her mouth, curled next to her mother and was instantly asleep, clutching the ever present Wopples. Not even the transfer from the ER to maternity had disturbed the sleeping toddler. Once Cameron had been settled in her room for her forced observation and Cuddy had finished with House, he had made his way to her as well. Wilson had delivered House, clothed in loose fitting scrubs, by means of a wheelchair. After a brief conversation where Wilson was made to promise he would run by their home and pick up House's cane, clothing for all of them and pull-ups for Emma, he had departed leaving the family at last alone. Without preamble, House had instantly rose from the chair and painfully climbed next to Cameron, wrapping her in his arms.

'How are you?' House had whispered as he tenderly pulled back her hair to expose the soft, white skin of Cameron's neck. Leaning into her, he had kissed the exposed area lightly.

'Exhausted, worried, upset, and sore,' laughed Cameron quietly as she turned on her side and attempted to move Emma to make more room on the bed. In the new position, Cameron had been able to snuggle into House's embrace, while Emma snuggled into hers. 'I bet we are a sight,' she had whispered as House pulled her closer.

'As long as we don't move or breathe too hard, we should be fine.' Cameron had felt herself shiver when House's lips moved against her ear. There had been humor in his voice even considering the events of the evening. By snaking her arms around Emma, Cameron was able to take his hand in her own.

'If you keep breathing heavily in my ear, we are going set off the monitors I'm attached too,' Cameron had mused. She recalled how the bed had shook as House chuckled behind her before purposely blowing out a puff of warm air and moving his head to snuggle against her neck.

Cameron could not help from smiling as she thought of House's hand sliding into the hospital gown and running across her side and stomach. 'You must not be too banged up,' she had whispered as his warm hand had sent shivers through her body, which in turn had caused a loud beep to sound from one of the machines slowing ticking away above their heads.

The bed had moved as House had laughed. 'Don't go and get all excited on me. Not only can I do nothing about it at this current moment, but I have had an extensive lecture from Stewart and Cuddy about what we can and cannot do for a while. They made me promise I would be a good boy till all danger to the baby has passed.'

'I got a lecture too,' Cameron had replied caressing the back of his hand with her thumb. 'So I suggest we both start thinking of something else, fast.'

'Spoil sport,' House had again lightly stroked Cameron's bare skin, sending more loud beeps and whines to the machines gauging her heart rate and blood pressure. The sound had caused a light cry to escape Emma. 'Oops,' House had laughed quietly as she released his hand and smoothed her child back to sleep.

After a few moments, as sleep begin to take over, Cameron had entwined her fingers with House's. 'What are we going to do?' she had whispered in the darkness, but sleep had grabbed hold of his consciousness and his breathing had steadied and combined with Emma's.

Now as the morning light shone across the bed, and Emma began to stir against her, Cameron wonder what this day was going to bring.

_

* * *

_

_Then a scream, shrill and high, rent the shuddering sky,_

_And they knew that some danger was near;_

_The beaver turned pale to the tip of its tail, _

_And even the Butcher felt queer._

Wendum opened the door of his apartment to find Winslow making himself at home.

'How the bloody hell did you get in here?' asked Wendum, shutting the door behind him and removing his coat. Shuffling to a chair, he quickly removed his shoes and began a vain attempt to rub life back into his frozen feet.

'What happened to your socks?' Winslow, perched on the sofa casually reading the morning paper and drinking a cup of coffee, watched the man in amusement. 'You do know it's snowing, don't you?'

Wendum grimaced as feeling began to return to his toes, sending pin and needles up his legs. He glanced at Winslow and scowled, 'Answer the bleedin question old man, how did you get in here?'

Carefully and slowly, Winslow set down his coffee and neatly folded his paper before settling back in the sofa and considering Wendum. 'You look horrible. Did you have rough night?'

'Are you going to tell me or aren't you?'

Winslow sighed and removed a set of keys from his pocket, holding them up for the other man to see. 'I have a key. Actually half the hospital has keys to this place.'

'Why?' asked Wendum eyeing him suspiciously.

A light smile formed at the corners of the old man's eyes as he considered the question. 'The hospital owns a small number of furnished apartments for the use of guest or visitors like yourself. Each is conveniently located near the hospital, so some of us, on occasion, have been known to…' Winslow smiled in mock embarrassment, feigning a loss of words, '…lets say, use these locations as rendezvous points.'

A look of disgust formed on Wendum's face. 'Are you saying my apartment is the location for the occasional tryst?'

'On occasion,' smiled Winslow, 'It depends what department is assigned to which facility and who has access to it.'

'That still does not tell me why you are here. This certainly can't be the late policy.'

'No,' laughed Winslow crossing his hands over his knee; he was enjoying this. 'I came because you, my boy, are the talk of the hospital.' Inwardly, Wendum groaned as he listened to the old man continue. 'I though it would be advantageous to check matters out for myself privately, before I approached the subject professionally.'

Wendum eyed Winslow cautiously, 'What have you heard?'

'Oh, the talk of the hour is you tried to rape Allison Cameron.' Winslow watched the man across from him carefully, but was surprised when Wendum did not react.

'And,' asked Wendum.

'So it's true?' Without knowing it, Winslow had moved forward on the sofa, eyeing the man across from him with fascination. 'You actually attacked Cameron?'

Wendum shrugged as he rose and moved to the kitchenette to pour himself a cup of coffee. Holding up the pot, he gestured towards the other man's cup. 'No thanks,' mumbled Winslow, his mind racing.

Nodding, Wendum set down the pot and stood considering his best answer while taking sips of the coffee. 'Do you want an honest answer?'

Winslow nodded, not daring let his eyes leave the other as he slowly rose to his feet.

'I thought it would be entertaining to try to coerce her into infidelity, so I made advances towards her.'

'And?'

'And what?' asked Winslow innocently. 'She responded, I got carried away and then things went wrong, but I didn't rape her.' He paused for a moment as a thought occurred to him. 'I am truly surprised she said I did.'

'She didn't, the hospital rumor mill says it was rape,' quickly interjected Winslow. 'but Dr. Cameron has not backed or denied that claim.' He looked at Wendum curiously, 'You are taking this incredibly calmly. Why?'

Wendum struggled nonchalantly and smiled. 'I know the truth, so I have nothing to hide.

Winslow stood before Wendum, his eyes narrowing as they met the other man's, 'What did you do to her, exactly?'

'I kissed her,'

'And?'

'And nothing, I just kissed her.'

'They say she has bruises.'

'Not from me.'

Winslow eyed the man carefully. As much as he did not like House, and as guilty as he, himself, was of using Cameron, he did not like the idea of someone physically hurting her. Much to his surprise, Winslow found he was getting angry. 'She almost lost her baby.'

'That is unfortunate,' answered Wendum calmly and coldly. He set down his coffee and leaned heavily against the counter, crossing his arms. It was obvious he wanted Winslow to leave and it was more obvious he did not care about Cameron.

Clinching his fist, Winslow advanced on Wendum. 'What did you do to her?' he demanded to know. 'Do you not have a shred of decency anywhere in your body?'

'Not really,' smirked Wendum stepping towards Winslow; his eyes growing cold and fierce as he stared at the old man, 'In fact, I rather wish I had finished what I began.'

Winslow's fist swung out at Wendum, who neatly side stepped the old man and grabbed his arm. He laughed as he easily turned Winslow's arm behind his back. 'That wasn't very cricket old man.'

'Let go of me,' winced Winslow, sweat beading on his head.

Leaning forward, Wendum whispered into his ear as he propelled the old man forward, 'Like I said, not very cricket.' He stopped Winslow at the apartment door, wrenching the arm higher behind the old man's back. 'Now then, why don't you toddle back to the hospital and sort this out for me.'

Winslow felt his knees begin to buckle from the pain streaming up his shoulder. 'House is looking for you,' he gasped. Another centimeter higher and his arm was going to snap.

'Good,' laughed Winslow, 'tell him where he can find me. Better still, let everyone know I'll be there is a couple of hours' With a final wrench he let go of Winslow as the old man let out a howl of pain. Stepping past the old man cradling his arm in the other, Wendum opened the door to the apartment. 'Thank you so much for stopping by, it was a pleasure.' Placing his hand on Winslow's back, he shoved the old man over the threshold and slammed the door in his face.

* * *

"_Tis the voice of the Jubjub!' he suddenly cried,_

_(This man, that they used to call "Dunce.")_

"_As the Bellman would tell you," he added with pride,_

"_I have uttered that sentiment once."_

'Rise and shine, rise and shine,' squawked Wilson loudly in his best bad southern accent as he tried to make his voice high pitched and annoying.

'What the hell is that?' asked House yawning broadly. Sleepily he felt next to him before letting a yelp of pain as he sat bolt up right.

'Oh, come on House, it wasn't that bad,' there was indignation in Wilson's expression as he eyed House. 'I think I would be a wonderful Amanda Wingfield.'

'Where's Cameron?' asked House ignoring Wilson. His bruised and scrapped body ached, and combined with a throbbing pain in his leg.

'She talked the nurse into letting her up so she could bathe and freshen up a bit.'

'And Emma?' House lowered the railing on the bed and swung over his legs. His body was stiff and he needed his Vicodin.

'With her mother. When the nurse brings them back, I'll take Emma up to the nursery for you.' Wilson lifted a bag he had placed in visitor's chair and handed it to House along with his cane. 'Side pocket,' He didn't need to say Vicodin, it was unspoken that would be the first thing House would seek.

'You're just too good, Jimmy,' mused House digging out two Vicodin and popping them in his mouth. '

'Yep, that's me, always the gentleman caller, and never the lead.'

House smiled brightly up at his friend and wiggled his eyebrows, as he lifted his cane and tenderly rose from the bed. 'You would be cute in drag, but I think you should be Laura, not Amanda, or maybe I should be Laura, after all, I already have the limp.'

Wilson looked shocked. 'How in the world do _you_ know who the characters in the _Glass_ _Menagerie _are?'

House grinned as he lifted the bag and shuffled towards the door, even with the Vicodin, it was going to be an excruciatingly painful day. 'Believe it or not, I played Tom when we did it in high school.' Wilson's mouth dropped open as House continued. 'You should have seen the drama teacher; my Gawd that woman was stacked.' He stopped and turned to Wilson, waiting for him to open the door. 'Wendum showed up yet?' he asked quietly as they moved into the corridor.

Wilson shook his head. 'No, no one has seen him and Cuddy has not only called and paged him five hundred times, but we went to his place last night and no one was there.'

House nodded as he stood waiting for the elevator. 'Let me know the moment anyone hears anything.'

'Don't worry,' said Wilson, 'half the hospital wants to take a swing at him, especially Foreman.' The elevator doors opened and House stepped in. Lifting his cane, he barred the door from closing.

'When Cameron returns will you tell her I will back in a few, I want to shower.'

Wilson nodded, 'Sure, anything else?'

'Yes, actually,' there was embarrassment on House's face as he pulled his cane from the door. 'Thank you.' Luckily he did not see the smile spread across Wilson's face as the elevator doors closed.

* * *

"_This the note of the Jubjub! Keep count, I entreat;_

_You will find I have told it you twice._

_Tis the song of the Jubjub! The proof is complete,_

_If only I've state it thrice."_

Upon returning to the hospital, Winslow immediately went to his office, closing and locking the door behind him. Cradling his arm, he carefully closed the blinds and sat down at his desk. 'What am I going to do,' he asked himself aloud. His arm ached, and as he tried to flex it, sharp pains ran through it. He had a problem, he knew. If he went to Cuddy and told about _his_ incident and conversation with Wendum, it sealed Wendum's fate on his attacked on Cameron. No one would believe he did not do it. 'Hell,' thought Winslow, 'even I think he attacked Cameron.' He surprised himself as he realized he hoped House kicked Wendum's ass.

Wendum, thought Winslow, had said he would be in the hospital in a couple of hours. If he sat back and did nothing, then maybe Cuddy would intercede. But if he contacted House, then at least House would have the upper hand. Winslow winced both literally and mentally at the thought of going to House and as he tried to move his arm up and down. 'I'm in a quandary,' he thought as he dug in his desk drawer and extracted a bottle of aspirin, a bottle of whiskey, and a dusky glass. Pouring a bit of the whiskey, into his glass, Winslow washed down two aspirins. 'I could just do nothing.' Winslow smiled at this. 'If I do nothing, I am blamed for nothing.' Nodding his head in satisfaction, Winslow poured himself another shot.

_

* * *

_

_The Beaver had counted with scrupulous care,_

_Attending to every word:_

_But it fairly lost heart, and outgrabe in despair,_

_When the third repetition occurred._

Cameron was bored and when it came to being a patient; she was a horror. She had checked her own readouts and examined her chart. As far as she could see, both she and the baby were perfectly fine. When House had briefly returned showered and dressed, he too had looked at the readouts and the chart and agreed, in his opinion, they looked fine, but it wasn't his field. _He_ wanted her to stay put for the time of her observation. 'The kid is going to have enough problems with us as parents, let's not risk anything else,' he had told her seriously before kissing her lightly and claiming he was going to his office. Cameron knew differently. Foreman had always accused her of being anal, which she denied even if was true, but even House knew he was obsessive. Once he had an idea in his head, he was not going to let it go. Cameron knew he may physically been going to his office, but even from there, he was searching for Wendum. She just worried what was going to happen when he found her would be assailant.

Deciding she had had enough, Cameron flew back the blankets House had made the nurse tuck around her, unattached herself from the monitors and turned them off. Digging in the bag Wilson had brought her; Cameron quickly dressed and slipped from the room once she was certain no one was watching. Maybe, she thought, just maybe if I find him first, I can keep House from killing him. Sneaking by the nursing station, Cameron headed towards the lift.

_It felt that, in spite of all possible pains,_

_It had somehow contrived to lose count,_

_And the only thing now was to rack its poor brains_

_By reckoning up the amount._

**

* * *

**

**Author's note**

**Continued next chapter….Cameron goes to her office, just as Wendum arrives.**

Sorry this one is so long, I've been playing with it over the last week. I also would like to apologize again for my lack of geography.

Literary quotations to which I do not have any rights: _The Hunting of the Snark_, by Lewis Carroll and _The Glass Menagerie_ by Tennessee Williams. Literary allusions I previous forgot to disclaim in the story, _Oedipus Rex_ by Sophocles and _The Faerie Queen_ by Edmund Spencer. There are probably some more, but I can't remember them at current moment.


	14. Chapter 14

Reader, Warning, this next bit is horrific,

(But as a writer, it scares me to say I think it is also terrific.)

I am shocked, but I could not be stopped

The words flew of their own accord

Even though the scene I abhor.

I kid you not; this scene has placed my stomach in a knot.

I know not how it I contrived, as these actions I cannot abide.

I ask you to forgive me, for my latent violent tendencies.

If this is what occurs from the _Hunting of the Snark_

Be glad it was not _The Poetics_ to which I embarked.

I am amazed and appalled, and for it I should be mauled.

Again I tell you, this is not for the faint of heart,

So quickly now, don't read it, just depart.

Though I apologized, the situation I hope I have not aggrandized.

The disclaimer is a must, for I fear this is a bust.

Please be kind, these characters are not mine.

I am dismayed; I have used them in this way.

* * *

"_The method employed I would gladly explain,_

_While I have it so clear in my head,_

_If I had but the time and you but the brain—_

_But much yet remains to be said._

_In one moment I've seen what had hitherto been_

_Enveloped in absolute mystery,_

_And without extra charge I will give you at large_

_A Lesson in Natural History." _

Cameron was surprised when she entered the immunology department. It was deserted, or at least she thought it was deserted as Winslow's blinds were drawn. Cameron glanced at the old man's door; she really should speak with him, she thought.

She knew Cuddy had sent a message asking Barlow to cover for her and see her patients, which, according to Cuddy, he had begrudgingly agreed to do; but Winslow was still her immediate supervisor and Cameron felt it would only be right to speak with him herself. Raising her arm to rap on the door, Cameron glanced at the sound of the departmental door swishing opened and closed. To her surprise Wendum stood just inside of the entrance, staring at her. Without saying a word, he reached behind him and pressed the lock on the door in place. Quickly, before Cameron could process what was happening, he crossed the room and pinned her to the wall of Winslow's office, kissing her passionately.

Cameron tried to push him away as she attempted to turn her head breaking the kiss, but Wendum held her fast, his tongue pushing into her mouth and exploring its depth. Then just as suddenly as he had pinned her, Wendum broke the kiss and stepped back, releasing Cameron.

'We need to chat, don't you think?' His voice was quiet and a little husky from the kiss, but other than that, it was without emotion.

Cameron silently cursed herself as her eyes searched for a way around Wendum. She needed to unlock the door, she did not want to be isolated from the rest of the hospital, but Cameron also knew Wendum was right. She knew the rumors flying around the hospital were out of hand, and even if she were able to calm them, Wendum's career at Princeton Plain was over before it ever began. Her reaction to his kiss, combined with House's overreaction to the situation, and then the extensive conversation she had with Cuddy had in essence destroyed this man's career.

'I'm sorry,' was all Cameron found she could say as her eyes met Wendum's.

'I would say you are.' He studied her for a moment, his face unreadable. 'Have you heard the talk?'

Pulling her eyes away, Cameron looked at the floor and nodded.

'My career is over.' There was a note of hostility and remorse in Wendum's voice.

'I know,' whispered Cameron as tears came to her eyes. She found she could not look at him.

For several minutes both were silent as Cameron studied the floor lost in thought as Wendum began to pace in front of her, she could tell his anger was mounting. Finally, he stopped and tenderly lifted Cameron's chin with his outstretched hand. 'Why did you say I tried to rape you?'

'I didn't.' Cameron pulled away from his touch, 'the rumor mill made it into rape after I came in last night.'

'Go on.'

Cameron shrugged and had the good sense to look abashed. 'Everything got out of hand alright. I was upset and I was scared and frightened. You scared me. I said no and you kept going, so I went home to my husband and …' Cameron blushed as her words began to tumble from her, 'well, things happened there as well then I told Greg you attacked me and he wouldn't let me explain. Before I even had the chance to tell him the story, he got mad and left to come looking for you. He had an accident, I thought I had miscarried, and the hospital,' Cameron threw up her arms in frustration, 'took everything and created their own version of the events.'

Wendum considered her, attending to every word she spoke. When at last she had finished, he bit his lip and then calmly stepped towards her, 'You flirted with me throughout the day, did you not?' Cameron nodded as he took another step closing the space between them. 'You were interested in me as well, weren't you?'

'No,' lied Cameron, "no.'

'Liar,' shouted Wendum, his face contorting with rage as he grabbed Cameron by the upper arms, digging his fingernails into her flesh. 'You kissed me back, you know you did.'

'I didn't want to,' wailed Cameron trying to escape his grasp. 'I told you no and I meant no.' Cameron's body turned taunt as fury and adrenaline started to flood through her.

Wendum's grip was vice-like on her arms. Bringing up her leg, she tried to knee him in the groin, but he easily side stepped the move bringing both of them into the center of the room.

'You lying bitch. You know you wanted me then, and you still want me now!'

'No,' yelled Cameron loudly hoping it was enough to be heard in the corridor beyond the doors. 'Liar,' screamed Wendum just as loudly as his right hand released her shoulder and his fist came back. The blow sent Cameron sprawling. As the world swayed around her she was barely aware of the rough hands grabbing her and hauling her to her feet or the second blow which sent her crashing into the glass wall of Winslow's office, leaving a trail of blood down the glass as she slid to the floor.

The next events were a blur to Cameron. In some vague recess of her mind, she was aware of Wendum straddling her, pinning her legs and arms to the floor. Somewhere she thought she heard shouting and someone hammering on the doors to the immunology department, but it was drowned by Wendum's grunt of pleasure as he ripped open her blouse and began pulling at the jeans Wilson had brought her. Cameron tried to call out for help, but Wendum's fist again slammed into her, filling her mouth with blood as a shadowed passed over her. With every ounce of strength left in her body, Cameron began to try to fight as Wendum's hand pushed itself along to top of her panties. Somehow, for she did not know how, Cameron managed to pull her arms free and push Wendum from her. Rolling over she began to crawl away, trying to make it to the office door. Through the haze of blood in her eyes, she could see Foreman throwing himself against the door, trying to break it down as Quincy grabbed a fire extinguisher and attempted to break the glass.

'There's no escape this time Allison.' Wendum's voice was rough and husky as Cameron felt his knee slam into her back, felling her. A hand landed on the back of her pants, pulling them down as Wendum wrapped his arm around her throat from behind and pulled Cameron to her knees 'Think he'll make it in time?' Wendum laughed in her ear, 'or do you think he'll get to see me take you from behind?' Cameron choked in confusion, tears and blood flowing down her face. She was finding it very hard to breathe as she prayed someone would get to her in time. 'Your husband can see us,' whispered Wendum as his hand went to his own pants. 'He's one of the ones outside the door.'

'No,' screamed Cameron in a loud, blood curling cry as she pulled with all her might to break free from Wendum. Turning her head, she could see House. The look of anguish on his face for her was mixed with murderous rage for Wendum. The arm around Cameron's throat grew tighter, completely cutting off her air as she heard Wendum evilly whisper, 'ready?' Then suddenly, the pressure was gone. The arm dropped and Wendum's weight, which had been holding Cameron immobile, disappeared. To Cameron's surprise and relief Wendum fell to the side with a groan and instantly a pool of blood began to form next to his head. Without thinking, Cameron crawled to the door and with unsteady hands turned the lock. She was only vaguely aware of Winslow standing over Wendum with a blood spattered cricket bat in his hand, and then the room around her exploded.

House was on floor next to her cradling her in arms as Wilson carefully draped her with his lab coat. Cuddy was shouting as Foreman, ran to Wendum; tempted to hit him repeatedly himself, and checked his head injury. Someone, later no one could say for sure, had taken the cricket bat from Winslow as the old man had grabbed his chest and sunk to the floor with a major coronary. Through it all, Cameron clung to House weeping profusely.

_While the beaver confessed, with affectionate looks_

_More eloquent even than tears,_

_It had learned in ten minutes far more than all books_

_Would have taught it in seventy years_

_They returned hand-in-hand, and the Bellman, unmanned_

_(For a moment) with noble emotion,_

_Said "This amply repays all the wearisome days_

_We have spent on the billowy ocean!"_

_Such friends, as the Beaver and Butcher became,_

_Have seldom if ever been known;_

_In winter or summer, twas always the same—_

_You could never meet either alone._

_And when quarrels arose – as one frequently find_

_Quarrels will, spite every endeavor—_

_The song of the Jubjub recurred to their minds,_

_And cemented their friendship for ever!_

_The Hunting of the Snark, _by Lewis Carroll

**

* * *

**

**Author's note**

I need to make a nod to Eugene Scribes' rules to "The Well Made Play," which I applied to the story. (See any Theatre History text for Eugene Scribes and the rules) and also to tell you, I am going to do a Doctor Who story (Fifth Doctor and Peri) after I have finish this one.


	15. Chapter 15

I have been away, must to many readers dismay

We were on break, and it came not a moment too late

But now I'm back, Mid-terms I must now attack

There are papers due, and several essays to review

One class is reading the Scarlet Letter, praying their homework gets better

Another class has a research paper to write, (it will destroy the instructor's sight)

To get it done, this class may never again see the sun

It has parenthetical citations, (which is giving them palpations.)

There are works cited and works consulted, (many have already revolted.)

An appendix must be included, and the facts cannot be diluted,

It's being worked on day and night (the entire class looks a fright.)

Over ten pages of content with outline and more, (this class is heavily deplored)

So, as must as I would like to play, I have work in the way.

There are things which must be done, each keeping me on the run.

In case I have not made this plainer, here is the disclaimer.

These characters are not mine, (and your reviews have been very kind)

I hold no claim on this creation, (and writing is obviously not my vocation)

_

* * *

_

_He dreamed that he stood in a shadowy Court,_

_Where the Snark, with a glass in its eye,_

_Dressed in gown, bands, and wig, was defending a pig_

_On the charge of deserting its sty._

House entered the Cardiac Intensive Care Unit and nodded to the nurse on duty.

'Any changes?'

'Actually,' she smiled, 'he's awake.' Nodding, he turned, but was stayed by the nurse. 'Dr. House, he's really weak.'

'I'll try to be good.' Giving her a weak smile he wondered into Winslow's room and stood next to the old man's bed.

'What are you doing here?' croaked a weak voice from the bed.

'Oh, I just thought I would stick my nose in and see if you were still alive and kicking.' He paused and looked at the ashen face before him. 'So? Are you?''

'Am I what?' asked Winslow eyeing House.

'Alive and kicking?'

'I think so.'

'Good,' House smiled at the old man with genuine relief before looking over his shoulder to see if the nurse was near. 'I need to tell you something,' he quietly whispered as he stiffly stooped over the side of the bed making certain Winslow could not avoid looking at him, 'Thank you.'

A slight smirk formed on Winslow's lips as he watched House straighten. That must have half killed him, he thought, before saying aloud, 'How is she?'

House stood for a moment, tapping his cane on the floor while looking at his shoes. Then, blowing out a long breath of air, he shrugged. 'Okay, I guess. She's battered and bruised, but okay.' He hesitated, 'she hasn't said much and she's slept through most of the last two days.' Glancing at Winslow's pale and drawn face, House could see their brief conversation was already becoming tiring for him. Plus, he too wanted it to end. 'I'll go.' Stepping back, he pressed his lips together and gave a nod as he turned to leave.

'The baby?' Winslow croaked. From the way House froze and stood tapping his cane before turning to answer made Winslow inwardly cringe.

'They tell us its fine.'

'But?'

House shrugged lightly, 'She's had a lot happen to her in the last seventy-two hours. Her face looks like it was used as a punching bag, and the shock of it all is affecting her. I would be a fool to say I was not worried.' He looked at Winslow, even bearing in mind the old man had saved Cameron from an unspeakable fate before suffering a massive coronary, House still felt uncomfortable about trying to be friendly with the man. He thought, however considering the circumstances, he owed it to his unborn child and his wife to at least try. Glancing back at Winslow, House mumbled a hasty get well and fled from the CCU ward heading to maturity to see his wife.

* * *

"_My client's fate now depends on your votes."_

_Here the speaker sat down in his place,_

_And directed the Judge to refer to his notes_

_And briefly to sum up the case._

Cameron was sleeping quietly and peacefully when House entered the room. Against his better objections, both Cuddy and Annabella Stewart had insisted on keeping Cameron lightly sedated, while assuring him both she and the baby would not suffer any residual effects.

'She needs to rest House.' Cuddy had said immediately after the incident when they had rushed Cameron into a room to examine her. 'She has gone through a trauma and needs time to both mentally and physically heal. You both do.' House had stood and watched as nurses had held down the panic-stricken woman who he deeply loved, only half listening to the droning of Cuddy's voice. 'Hysteria is only going to cause more damage. We need to have her calm enough to run test, to check her wounds,' Cuddy had hesitated before saying, 'to see about the baby.' Giving a look to Annabella, Cuddy had silently okayed the sedative while House looked on helplessly.

For the next several hours, House had sat in his office watching Emma play as he waited. He had initially wanted to stay with his wife as test were ran, the ultrasound was performed, and skilled hands attentively dealt with the lacerations and bruises covering her Cameron's face and body. He had been holding Cameron's hand, whispering encouragements quietly in her ear and keeping a sharp eye on what was happening around them, when Cuddy had ran him from the room. 'They can't do their jobs with you telling them _how_ to do their jobs House. You are going to have to trust us,' she had declared before demanding him to go and get out of everyone's hair.

Reluctantly, House had allowed Wilson to lead him away with promises from Cuddy he would be called the moment anything was discovered. They had first gone to the surgical observation deck and watched the triple by-pass performed on Winslow, before going to the next bay and to see Foreman and a team of neurosurgeons conduct a cephalotrypesis and a temporal-cortical bypass on Wendum to reduce pressure from the blow of the cricket bat. During the procedure House had pushed the button for the surgical speaker and announced 'let the bastard die' to the neurological team, which in turn had gotten both he and Wilson expelled from the observation deck. Finally, House had taken refuge in his office. Wilson had then collected Emma from the nursery in hopes her presence would improve he father's mood while they waited for Cuddy's call. Emma however had only made him worse. For the next two days, House was by his wife's side. Once or twice he had ventured toward the room containing Wendum, but each time armed guards had escorted him away. Cuddy wasn't taking any risks, anyone associated with House or Cameron was being barred from even the floor he was on. Security was tight, for Cuddy knew, given a chance, half the hospital wanted to make certain Wendum did not leave it alive.

'Greg?'

House's head snapped up from his recollections. 'Allison?'

He stood and leaned over her prone form wincing at the sight of Cameron's face. 'How do you feel?' he asked quietly.

Cameron stared up at him, their eyes connecting. He could see fright lingering in their depts. 'I don't know,' she uttered, pulling her gaze away and reaching for his hand. 'How long have I been a sleep?'

House glanced at the clock. 'About six hours this time.'

'My head feels fuzzy.'

House could not help smiling at her. 'Is that your best medical diagnosis? Fuzzy?' When Cameron didn't answer, he gently reached down and brushed away a strand of hair from her face. 'It's just the sedative. Cuddy and Stewart want to make certain you don't escape on them again. Remember what they told you about the baby and your stress level?'

Cameron gave a slight nod, before winced. Carefully, with her free hand, she felt along her face. 'Does it look any better?'

'No,' answered House honestly. 'You actually look worse.'

The cuts on her face were healing, but the bruising was still severe. They had taken on yellow and blue tinges around the corners of deep purple and black areas were Wendum had struck her. One eye was also still almost completely held closed through swelling.

Are you certain I can't bring Emma in. She keeps asking for you.'

'I don't want her to see me like this.' Cameron looked up at her husband. 'All of us do not need to be traumatized.'

Shaking his head, House squeezed Cameron's hand. 'She is going to see you the day after tomorrow when I take you home. The swelling is going down, but you're going to have those bruises for a while.' Pulling open the top buttons of his shirt, House revealed his right side shoulder and upper chest showing a large and nasty bruise from his accident. 'See, still looks horrid and I'm sore as hell. There's no magic wand for either of us. Emma is just going to have to see….let me bring her in.'

'Not now,' answered Cameron sleepily as her good began to droop. Leaning down stiffly, House tenderly kissed her split and swollen lips. 'Why are you making that face?'

Cameron asked, nuzzling into her pillow.

House smiled. 'Someone yesterday… or was it the day before… so much has happened I don't really remember when it was, anyway someone scrapped up my back.'

'That was you on that stupid bike,' mumbled Cameron closing her eyes.

'That too,' pulling the chair closer to the side of the bed, House settled himself in it and reached for Cameron's hand, squeezing it gently as she drifted into slumber.

_

* * *

_

_Then the Snark pronounced sentence, the Judge being quite_

_Too nervous to utter a word:_

_When it rose to its feet, there was silence like night,_

_And the fall of a pin might be heard._

'Are you sure about this?' Cuddy asked the person on the other end of the telephone. 'It can't be it just really can't.' She paused listening, making faces as she did so. 'Wow,' Cuddy breathed shaking her head. 'I'm sorry; I just don't see how that is possible. Let me give you my fax number and email and you can send me the information….Great, got a pen?'

Cuddy gave the caller the information and then hung up the phone. 'Unbelievable,' she uttered in astonishment, shaking her head. The fax machine beeped, causing her to jump. Getting up she raced to the machine, cursing at its slowness as it produced the first page of the fax. As page dropped into the tray, she snatched it up, eyes widening. 'Oh my God!' Cuddy gulped, 'It's just not possible?'

Grabbing the second sheet of paper from machine, she quickly scanned its contents; her heart racing. Glancing at the beginnings of the third fax, Cuddy could see it was a picture. With shaking hands she reached for it, as her computer beeped and an electronic voice announced, "Incoming mail." In a daze, Cuddy crossed to her desk and tapped the keyboard, opening the file. Her knees felt weak as she stared at the image on the computer screen and compared it to the crumpled paper she was clutching in her hand. 'Oh God,' she uttered again, before dashing from the room.

_But their wild exultation was suddenly checked_

_When the jailer informed them with tears,_

_Such a sentence would have not the slightest effect,_

_As the pig had been dead for some years._

_Hunting of the Snark by Lewis Carroll._

**

* * *

**

**Author's note**

Sorry everyone, as stated in the prologue, I was on break and now session has restarted it is mid-term On top of the school paper, mid-terms, research papers, essays, and a novel to read, we are also having a poetry contest (I'm in charge of it) and my department is moving (yep at mid-term….what idiots) into the "new building." This means we are packing, sorting, and shifting EVERYTHING across campus. I will try to finish up the last three chapters for you soon, but I can't promise. While on break I worked on getting the opening chapter of my Doctor Who story ready, but still not done with that either. I was also thinking of attempting another House story unless everyone is tired of me. Let me know if you want me to write another one….maybe I can attempt to do something happy for a change. Anyway…homework…must go. Ta for now, CBB.

PS….EMMA ALLISON…..You're kidding, right? If not, please email me, I have something I want to ask you.

PPS…..Claire Kelso….Gyre and Gimble in the Wabe comes from Lewis Carroll's _The Jabberwocky._

_Twas brillig, and the slithy toves  
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:  
All mimsy were the borogoves,  
And the mome raths outgrabe_.

PPPS….Pumpkin…. Theatre, art, and multi-cultural literature


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